


Limbo

by captainafroelf



Series: Rebehold The Stars [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Character(s), Bucky in Romania, Depression, F/M, Falling In Love, Fame, Gabe Jones' Granddaughter Has Quite A Few Issues, Grief/Mourning, Healing, I hated the second half of civil war so I'm re-writing the shit out of it, Luckily Bucky Knows a Thing or Two About Issues, Nightmares, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovery, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, original female character(s) of color - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7585753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainafroelf/pseuds/captainafroelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A missing actress and an infamous assassin wind up in the same apartment building..." is either the beginning to a bad joke or the best thing that could've happened to Bucky in Romania, he hasn't figured out which just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Other Runaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot of the dark humor attached to charlotte's very real mental issues is 100% my coping mechanism, just so you know  
> thanks to everyone who reviewed it on my blog and gave it a name <3

As clothes flew into a backpack, a nervous talent manager paced in his hotel room. The weekend had been long enough without this extra nonsense. “God, I don’t get what's such a big fucking deal!"

“He was my grandfather, that’s the big deal.” His client replied. “I’m expected to smile it off and move on, Aaron, I can’t. I go to sleep and I see him in my dreams and I want to go with him. I need…” She took a deep breath. “I need a break.”

“What? We were just having a great time at the festival.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, the thing about using music as a depression medication is that music stops and then all I’m left with is this feeling like I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

“It’s been two months, Charlotte! Two months since his burial, you have to get back out there! You have to show your face or people start talking.”

Charlotte’s best friend was sitting in the corner, chuckling to herself. “I bet they’ll really be talking now…”

“What’s gonna happen to your career while you’re out doing soul-searching? Who’s handling your organization?”

“Arrangements have been made for the organization and my career is on an indefinite hiatus.”

Aaron had no time for this. He’d been making arrangements for Charlotte to fly to New York and audition for a new action movie, but she was not only refusing to go with him, but she was talking about ‘disappearing for a while’. It was his worst nightmare. “How am I gonna dig my way out of this…”

Giselle yawned. “I suggest using a very big shovel.”

“Shut up, Giselle.”

“Yikes, someone’s irate…”

“Why didn’t you talk her out of this?!” He shouted. “Her career is on the line and you’re sitting here like it means nothing to you. You’re irrelevant without her, you know that, right?”

Giselle shrugged. “Gee, my 800,000 Instagram followers and popular rock band would disagree, Aaron. Besides, I’m not surprised by this, it’s almost like I gave her the idea.”

Aaron glared at her and Charlotte paused. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“I’m not gonna fucking touch her, Charlotte.”

“You say that as if it’s a far off assumption.”

He scoffed. “That’s what this is about? I hit you a few times and you and your little cunt friend think I’m an abuser?”

She walked up to him until they were nose to nose. “Yeah, it’s kind of like how you book me a few good jobs and fuck me once or twice and you think you own me.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder and disguised herself as best she could, checking her appearance one last time in the mirror.

“At least tell me where you’re going!” Aaron shouted.

“Do me a favor and forget my fucking number.”

She ran out the door. Aaron turned to Giselle and pointed an accusatory finger. “Whatever happens to her, wherever she goes, it’s your fault.”

Giselle pulled herself from the chair and grabbed her own suitcase. “You can forget my number, too.”

“I never had your number, bitch!”

She gasped in mock surprise. “ _Shocking_.”

* * *

 

Bucky, as he now knew himself to be, had been in Romania for months. He took good enough care of himself. He bought his own food, made money where he could, kept himself clean, lived quietly collecting his memories.

His new life had very few disruptions because he always knew how to hide. He’d escaped before and hid well enough that Hydra felt erasing his memory would be the only way to keep him still and in one place. But now Hydra was scattered, he was practically free. He was the perfect runaway.

Of course he’d kept up with the news, especially any news that related to the Avengers. Bucky knew that regaining memories was only half the battle. If he couldn’t keep up with the rest of the world, he’d never find a place in it, if he even had one.

There was one face in particular that had been splattered on every paper in the city. More than even Tony Stark as of late. Former child star and Golden Globe winner, Charlotte Ross. She was one of Hollywood’s most charitable, and also one of it’s smartest with two bachelor’s degrees in international relations and Africana Studies from NYU. She’d built her celebrity on a platform of both talent and advocacy. Of course this didn’t save her from tabloids and gossip.

She’d been missing for four months, disappearing after a reportedly bizarre weekend with her friend Giselle at a music festival. Well, she wasn’t exactly missing. It was rather obvious, to Bucky at least, that she really didn’t actually want to be found.

The world was on the hunt for her, and the case was so abnormal that he’d hear people he least expected to discuss it talking about it casually.

“I don’t know how she could leave her fans behind like this…” said a particularly chatty tourist. “She’s probably crazy. All those American Hollywood types are nuts, no matter how bright they are.”

“I heard that man she was seeing was abusing her and that’s why she ran away.” said another English-speaking woman.

“Why not just break up with the guy? See? Fucking nuts.”

One magazine pinned her disappearance on her joining a cult. A crazier magazine said she’d been abducted by aliens. Another said that she was pregnant with the child of some rockstar, specifically one whom she hadn’t been publicly seen with and who denied it in the magazine right beside it.

Bucky didn’t necessarily care _why_ she left, celebrity gossip meant so little to him. The reason Charlotte Ross had at least partially held his attention was her face. Aside from being gorgeous, which she was, she looked so familiar. There was something in her eyes or in her smile that reminded him of someone else.

He figured she was probably in an African country. More specifically, Wakanda. It was isolated enough that she wouldn’t have to try hard to hide, and she had the connections and means to get there. That’s where he’d go if he were her, but he didn’t know her… That would change sooner than he’d expected.

One morning, Bucky went to grab a newspaper as well as a few snacks. It was raining, naturally. He slipped on his gloves, the gloves he’d gotten used to wearing even in the heat of summer. When he wasn’t wearing gloves, he kept his hands in his pockets, and kept himself out of the way.

He pulled his hood over his head and started walking to the market. Along the way, he noticed a dark shadow hanging over him, as someone tried to keep their umbrella from hitting him.

He moved over to give the person space. The person thanked him in Romanian. Her, as he was assuming they were a ‘her’, lithe voice making the simple ‘thank you’ sound melodic.

She walked in front of him. A small black umbrella and a bright yellow raincoat. It was a mix of colors complete with cotton candy pink hair peeking from under her hood and short dark blue nails gripping tightly to the one thing keeping her dry. He’d rarely seen someone as colorful, here or anywhere else.

She looked back at him and grinned. Her brows furrowing when she saw his face, his eyes narrowing when he saw her’s. She shook her head and kept walking forward, but she knew him, and he knew that she knew him. But did he know her?

Deciding not to think too hard about it, Bucky kept walking. He found the newsstand, the woman in the yellow raincoat walked into a store across the street.

“Pot avea un ziar, te rog?” he said to the man running the stand. The man nodded and handed him the paper. “Mulțumesc. As putea avea, de asemenea, o apă îmbuteliată te rog?” He handed him the water, and Bucky paid with a grin. 

He noticed a magazine, out of the corner of his eye, with a glamorous shot of Charlotte Ross on the cover. She was laying on a chaise in a golden gown, her makeup was done in gold to match, her signature long black hair flowing off the armrest. The image made Bucky pause, _because he just saw that face_.

The hair wasn’t long or black, there was no makeup, there was no gown, and the woman he’d just shared the sidewalk with had gained a little weight in some places; but the features were the same. It was the same face, the same wide nose, the same round eyes…

Bucky turned back around and saw the yellow raincoat, brown skin, and pink hair exit the store in a rush, carrying two bags of groceries on her arms. She glanced at him and kept walking.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and sighed. “Life just couldn’t be normal for a second, could it?…”

* * *

 

Bucky finished his shopping and carried his bags back to his apartment complex. He did his usual quick sweep of the area for anything unusual before walking in. He should’ve looked harder, because maybe he would have been less surprised to see the woman in the yellow raincoat sitting on the stairs with her legs crossed and her hood down. Her pink hair framing that face that he recognized in an instant.

“You’re Charlotte Ross.” he said, not much louder than a whisper. “The missing actress on all the magazines.”

She nodded. “And I know who you are, too. Wanna talk about it?”

Bucky shook his head. “Why are you in my building?”

“I’m not here to hurt you if that’s what you’re thinking, I’m harmless.” He was still waiting for a real answer to his question. She sighed. “I live here.”

He narrowed his eyes. “But you were waiting for me, how would you know this is my building?”

Charlotte laughed dryly. “I wasn’t and I didn’t, but it makes sense. All the stories my grandfather told me, I just thought ‘WWBD’. What would Bucky do? He’d hide somewhere quiet, somewhere he can blend in. A shitty place in Bucharest. I mean, why not?”

He had several questions, but he began with an obvious one, one that wouldn’t scare her away. “Your grandfather?

“Gabe Jones.” She replied. The shock was evident on his face. His mind tried quickly piecing it all together. There was some resemblance. She had the intelligence. How’d he not figure it out before? “You remember him?”

“In fragments, yeah…”

“He remembered you, too.”

“Why would you want to live here? This can’t be what you’re used to.”

She shook her head. “Not in my normal life, no, but I’ve been basically living out of a backpack and shady hostels and friends’ couches forever now. A place of my own is a place of my own. I don’t care if it very often smells funny and the wallpaper is peeling and my water isn’t the cleanest.” She observed him closely. His shoulders were so tense they looked like stone. These questions were a form of interrogation, she could tell. “But, I mean, you’re here. That’s pretty cool. I haven’t had friendly neighbors in forever.”

Bucky looked down. “Friendly…”

Charlotte cocked her head to the side. “By friendly I mean occasionally calling for an ambulance if I need one. I have… tendencies.”

“Tendencies?”

“Yeah. What, you _don’t_ get the overwhelming urge to kill yourself once every other day?” She stood up. “Amazing. I didn’t know it was possible to live without craving the sweet release of death.”

Bucky sighed. “You have to know how this looks to me.”

“It looks like I’m following you, right?” she asked. She took his silence as a reply. “I’m not. I can’t make you believe me, but I’m not. In fact, I was gonna leave you alone. But now I kinda wanna talk to you.”

“Why would an actress want to talk to me?”

She grinned. “I’m part of a minority of people that don’t want you in handcuffs or in a shallow grave. A picture of Sergeant Barnes hangs proudly over my desk in Brooklyn, right next to my grandfather and all the other ones who are gone… Încă ești cea mai drăguță unul.”

She headed for her apartment and Bucky started making his way towards his. It wasn’t until she’d stopped in front of her door that he realized they didn’t just live in the same building but on the same floor.

His jaw clenched. “Charlotte.” She turned. “You should keep your distance from me, okay?”

She rolled her eyes and displayed a big smile that showed more warmth than she probably felt. “I hope you know that I was pretty much raised by Peggy Carter and Jim Morita and sometimes I’m not great with directions.” she said. His eyes pleaded with her and her smile began to fade. “But I’ll try my absolute best.”

“Thank you.”

“But, while I’m keeping my distance, call me Charlotte Jones, not Charlotte Ross. I think I’ve distanced myself from my grandfather for too long.” She looked down. “I’m trying to forgive myself for it.”

With that, she went inside her apartment and Bucky went into his and they kept their distance as promised… for about 72 hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Pot avea un ziar, te rog? - can i get a newspaper, please?  
> Mulțumesc. As putea avea, de asemenea, o apă îmbuteliată te rog? - Thanks, could I have a bottled water too, please?  
> Încă ești cea mai drăguță unul - you're still the prettiest one


	2. Kill It With Fire

Charlotte was sneaky, always had been. On sets she’d sneak sweets into her pockets. She’d sneak away from her mother in stores. She could easily sneak away from her posse at award shows if she needed time alone.

The one person she couldn’t sneak past was grandpa Gabe.

She crept down his stairs at about 2 AM, during one of many summer nights spent at his house. She must’ve been sixteen. She’d worn slippers and socks to conceal the sound of her footsteps.

She’d made it to the kitchen and opened the fridge, licking her lips at the sight of a box of popsicles. She grabbed a cherry one and went to town on it. She hadn’t had something so sweet and sugary in forever. She couldn’t when she was filming and she’d be off to the next set just two days later. It was so good, she didn’t even care when it started dripping down her chin.

She did care, however, when the kitchen light turned on.

Her grandfather was stood there with a tired grin on his face. Luckily it was him and not one of her parents, or else she would’ve had a complete heart attack.

“Vous pourriez avoir demandé un, amoureux.” He told her.

She shook her head. “Couldn’t risk it. I shouldn't even be eating this, every calorie shows on camera.”

He snorted. “Who told you that?”

The thing they don’t tell you about seeing yourself on a million screens and a million more photographs, seeing the image of your changing adolescent figure splayed on billboards, is that it forced you to confront everything. Every fold, lump, and bump was amplified. “No one had to tell me, the proof is on the screen.”

Gabe pulled out a popsicle of his own and sat across from his granddaughter. “Charlie, you’re gorgeous. Don’t matter if you weigh 120 pounds or 200 pounds. You got good genes.”

She giggled. “That’s true.”

“You have to start doing things _for you_.” he told her. “You have to start letting yourself have fun and eat shit or whatever it is that makes you happy. Not excessively, of course. But you have to start.”

She threw away her popsicle stick. “What if I don’t know what I want?”

“You wanted that popsicle, right?” She nodded. “We’ll start there, princess. But you know you can always come to me when you’re sad or tired… or need a popsicle.”

She smiled. “I’ve always wanted to dye my hair pink.”

“That’s something to tell your momma.”

* * *

Bucky knew that if he were about to be arrested, the police weren't going to knock gently. They'd use battering rams and smoke grenades and guns. He'd cooperate and go quietly, or at least he hoped he would but that wouldn’t be easy. He was wanted all over the world for unspeakable crimes, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were ordered to shoot him on sight. He couldn’t blame them either.

That's why it was a surprise to hear gentle but frantic knocking on his door at three in the morning. It still woke him with a start, but he knew he wasn’t being arrested.

He slipped into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt from the floor and checked the peephole. Charlotte, with her round brown eyes, was staring back at him, in a hoodie that was practically swallowing her and dark leggings. She looked as if she were debating turning back around.

He shoved his metal hand into his pocket and actually opened the door, much to her surprise. His stare held concern, but also disapproval.

“Hey.” Charlotte said quietly.

Bucky ran his metal digits through his hair and tried getting a read on her mood. She wouldn’t look him in the eyes, and she was fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie. “Charlotte, I really don’t think you should be over here.”

“I know. This is embarrassing, like, extremely embarrassing, but I need you to get rid of something for me.”

He sighed. “What's the 'something’?”

She handed him two pieces of lined paper. Ink from a pen had bled through and dried. “Don't read them, _please_. I knew that if I’d get rid of them myself I’d end up reading them.” she told him. “I should've burned them ages ago but I kept thinking that I'd need them and now I'm really trying not to need them.”

Bucky nodded and took the papers. “I'll get rid of them for you.”

Charlotte let out a sigh of relief. Her body seemed to shrink as she did, and the smaller woman slouched a bit forward now knowing that these papers were in good hands. “Thank you. I know you told me to keep my distance but-”

“This is no problem, Charlotte, I promise.”

She grinned and turned, but then turned back. “And if you do read them, they aren't extremely recent.”

Now he was worried. He stood up a bit straighter, making her shrink down. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him. “Would someone hurt you if they found these?”

She shook her head. “I wrote them for me. Part of escaping was to get over this part of me so I'd really prefer to do it the old fashioned way, with fire. Unfortunately, in my position, I can't really set random fires around here.”

Bucky was listening, intently. He knew people didn't burn things unless they were worse than bad, he knew that. He slipped the papers into his back pocket and leaned against the door post. “I'll burn them with you.”

Charlotte's eyes widened. “No, you're trying to lay low and I'm already asking too much.”

“I know a safe, quiet place to burn things, Charlotte. I want you to burn these with me.”

“Like a date?” His expression was still stern so she shook her head. “I’m _kidding_ … Nevermind. I’m sorry, I make dumb jokes when I’m nervous.”

He wanted to help her, he really did, as much as he wished that he didn’t. But she had to be committed. “If we’re doing this we should do it now, while it’s late. So, are you in this with me?”

She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I'm in.”

He nodded. “I'll grab my jacket and we'll go.”

Charlotte stood back, pacing. She couldn't believe he'd offered to do this. It was so risky and he'd flown so low under the radar up to that point. She honestly felt guilty for coming to him at all. She thought about running back into her apartment and leaving him alone, not just for tonight but forever.

Before she could move, he walked back out of his apartment and darted down the stairs with her following closely behind. She couldn't deny the adrenaline running through her veins like a drug. She hadn't felt real risk in so long.

They spilled out into the streets and she stuck to him like a shadow. Their clothes helped them blend into the dark of the night. This area wasn't particularly overflowing with street lamps. Charlotte could see her folded notes in his jeans and she felt the urge to snatch them back and run back out of his life. Run where? Who knows. Planes were risky. She was almost recognized on the flight to Romania, luckily her shorter pink ‘do threw them off enough. But the passenger did mention that she resembled Charlotte Ross. Trains were probably riskier, more people were awake and she wasn’t completely sure of the state of trains in Eastern Europe. She had a few friends scattered across the continent-

“You okay?” Bucky asked her, snapping her out of her flight mathematics.

She nodded, bringing herself back to the present. “I’m fine. Everything’s good.”

They walked for blocks to an abandoned parking garage. Charlotte was a bit troubled by the sketchy appearance of the place. But she was with Bucky, and she had to trust his judgement here, and trust that he wouldn’t let her get hurt.

“I always found places like this interesting as a kid.” Charlotte whispered. “Empty but speaking volumes all at once… so freaky.”

Bucky shook his head. “Just empty.”

“Not one for attaching deeper meaning?”

He saw empty abandoned lots and thought ‘Perfect place for a Hydra hideout’, so ‘just empty’ was the optimistic viewpoint. ‘Just empty’ meant he was still physically free. “I’m just not one for overthinking.” Is what he told her.

They made it to the center of the first floor and Bucky pulled out a lighter. There was an already charred pile of newspapers on the ground. Bucky pulled out her notes and lit them with the lighter before tossing them on the ground.

Charlotte felt relief wash over her. “Thank you.”

Bucky looked at the woman across from him, with the light of the fire dancing across her face, and cursed himself mentally for breaking his own rule. He was the one who told _her_ to stay away from _him_ , yet here he was, standing in a parking garage that he’d led her to. The worst part of it all is that he’d come up with more questions for her.

“Have you seen Steve Rogers at all?” he asked, low enough to keep it from echoing off the walls.

She nodded. “I met up with him about a month after the Battle of New York to speak about donating his old uniform. We’ve been talking ever since then… He’s one of my best friends. One of the only ones I completely trust, at least.”

“Does he know where you are?”

She shook her head. “Only one person has an idea and she’s probably not even sure.”

He shuffled on his feet a bit. “The guy you’re running from got a name?”

“What makes you think it’s a man?”

Bucky shrugged. “Is it a woman?”

“I wish it were a person so I could dropkick them.” she replied. “But I’m not running from anything, I’m looking for something.”

“Join the club.”

She let out a dry laugh. “I mean, I _would_ , but the club told me to keep my distance. Besides, I think your case is a bit more drastic.”

“I don’t know about that.”

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't wanna get into specifics but if this were the Olympics of suffering, I've lost. So you need to elaborate.”

“It's not a contest. I mean, you’re not the only one with _tendencies_ , and at least your hands are clean.”

He could feel her staring at him so he kept his eyes on the flames destroying her notes. She let out a deep sigh. “It’s the memories, isn’t it? Or that _thing's_ memories.”

“Yeah…”

Charlotte kicked at a pebble near the fire. “I think I was triggered by my grandfather’s death. I mean, I've always been depressed, but I had plans to _do it_ before the funeral because they chose an open casket and that’s the last thing… I couldn’t handle it.”

“Why was that the tipping point?”

She sniffled, and it was then that she realized she was crying. She didn’t want Bucky to see her cry. “We should head back.”

He nodded, letting her drop the subject. “We should put out the fire first.”

Charlotte spotted a bucket in the corner of the garage and ran over to grab it. It was full of rain water. “Convenient.”

She brought it back over and spilled it on the fire. Then they were in darkness again. Charlotte set down the bucket, but it made a much bigger noise than she’d intended, then she tripped over it.

She jumped, bumping into Bucky. “Shit, sorry! I’m kind of a klutz.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

They heard footsteps in the distance, coming closer. Bucky became hypervigilant, narrowing his eyes to focus in the dark. A gruff voice yelled into the dark, something muffled that they could barely make out to be a warning and a threat, nothing nice.

Charlotte’s heart quickened. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“Don’t panic. Stay close to me.” Bucky said.

Impulsively, Charlotte reached out and grabbed his arm. She was surprised by the feeling of metal instead of flesh, but she didn’t pull away. Bucky took her hand in his gloved metal one and they started running out the same way they came. They could hear the footsteps trying to get closer, but Bucky was quick and, by extension, Charlotte was quick. He had no chance of catching up.

They’d made it about a block away and Charlotte stopped to catch her breath. Bucky forgot she didn’t have super soldier lungs. “Are you alright? Do you need water?”

She smiled at him, “I haven’t run like that in ages, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, we lost him. That’s what matters.”

“You saved us.” He shook his head. “Yes, you did, Bucky. I wouldn’t have gotten out of there so fast without you, and that guy didn’t exactly sound like he wanted to hug us… I don’t really think this whole ‘keep your distance’ thing is gonna work in my favor while I’m in Romania.”

"Charlotte, I could-" He furrowed his brows. “Wait, are you planning to leave soon?”

“Don’t look so hurt, I really doubt this is the last we’ll see of each other.” She lied. She knew there was a chance she’d never see Bucky again when she left. But she was alright with it, she wanted him to be left alone. “I can’t stay in one place for more than three months or international media gets tipped off about where I am.”

“That’s smart.”

“I wish I could just hide like you, but I’ve been acting since I was six. My face is in movies, tv, music videos, books… Magazines offer big money to paparazzi who snap pictures of me. Plus, I really have to go now that I’m in close proximity to you. I don’t want you getting caught with me, I’d never forgive myself.”

“It would be quite the headline.” Bucky said. “‘Beloved Actress Found With Notorious Assassin’.”

Charlotte giggled. "Did you just tell a joke?"

He shrugged. "I think so."

Now she couldn't stop smiling. “The headline is way too straight-forward, try ‘You Won’t Believe Who We Found Charlotte Ross With in Romania! The Shocking Pictures Inside!’.” They started walking again, taking their time now. “You get used to seeing your life in the form of click-bait titles. I think the only thing I miss about being as famous as I was are the corny quizzes people could take to find out if I was destined to marry them. I always failed them. I guess I don’t know myself.”

“What are those like?”

She cleared her throat and put on her best Valley Girl accent. “'Where would you and Charlotte go on a date? A. A restaurant. B. The beach. C. The movies. Or D. An amusement park?' or something about emojis.”

“What would the answer be?”

She thought about it. “The movies, of course, I love movies. I hate all of mine, though.”

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm in them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> which one of these lucky kids do you think will start catching feelings first??  
> translations:  
> Vous pourriez avoir demande un, amoureaux - You could have just asked for one, sweetheart


	3. Running Up That Hill

_“It doesn't hurt me. Do you wanna feel how it feels? Do you wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me? Do you wanna hear about the deal I'm making?”_

Charlotte was too busy singing to notice that her neighbor had walked out of his apartment and was watching her take out the trash and dance to Kate Bush. She spun around and clapped her hands and stood on her toes. He couldn’t help but stare and wait for her to figure out that she wasn’t alone in the hallway.

_“You… You and me… If I only could, I’d make a deal with God, and I’d get him to swap our places…”_

She spun around, finally spotting him standing there. She pulled out one of her earbuds and froze. “Good morning, Bucky.”

Bucky waved. “Good morning.”

“You didn’t see that, did you?”

He crossed his arms. It actually drew attention to the fact that he had really beefy arms. Charlotte noticed but didn't think too hard about it. Her embarrassment was overwhelming all else. “I saw _something_.”

Part of her was happy that he was the only person who saw her, but she still felt the urge to throw herself down the stairs immediately to spare herself the pain and humiliation. “Pretend you saw nothing and we’ll leave it at that?”

“But that would be lying. Plus, who am I gonna tell?”

Charlotte cleared her throat and tried to save herself somehow. “I’m taking out the trash. You need anything while I’m out? Coffee? Orange juice? Aspirin?... Vodka?”

He shook his head and held up his own bag. “I’m doing laundry. You don’t have to get anything for me.”

“Uh huh, so I’ll get you some juice. See you in a few.”

He watched her go, hearing her softly resume singing as she hurried down the stairs.  Then he slung his bag over his shoulder and started for the laundromat.

_“You don’t wanna hurt me, see how deep the bullet lies... Unaware I’m tearin’ you asunder, there is a thunder in our hearts…”_

* * *

 

Charlotte took out her trash and walked to the market, grabbing two bottles of juice. She considered getting Bucky a candy bar but thought it would be too much and make him retreat. She stood in line for the checkout and, against her better judgement, glanced at the tabloids. She cursed herself for being able to read Romanian, because the headlines sprawled across her face weren’t at all flattering. She always did this to herself, no matter the city, no matter how much she knew she hated it. Some morbid curiosity always drew her eyes to the magazines.

She pulled her eyes away, reminding herself that she knew these rumours weren’t true. Being on the run was the best decision she’d made in a while and she had no reason to regret it.

She paid for the juice and left, trying not to think about the headlines.

Charlotte knocked on Bucky’s door, shaking his bottle of juice. Bucky opened the door and she grinned. He pouted.  “Isn’t this grape juice? I thought you said orange juice.”  
“I said juice… You live _here_.” She gestured to the peeling wallpaper. “And legally you don’t exist, so don’t get choosy.” She took a sip of her juice and he opened his. “Question for you, neighbor. You don't have to answer but there's no reward if you do.”

“Uh-oh.”

“It’s painless, I promise." She cleared her throat and thought of a way to phrase it. "You ever see a version of yourself, and it’s definitely you, but it’s like a you from a different universe?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what being on the cover of a tabloid magazine is like. It’s like looking at someone’s fanfiction of you, except the photoshop is better.”

Not quite what he was thinking. “Somethin’ in particular bothering you?’

Charlotte groaned. “Honestly, Bucky, I wish it _wasn’t_ bothering me. I’ve been in those rag magazines since I was pretty much a fifth grader but I still get so angry when I see them for some reason.”

“I’ve seen what they say, I think you have a right to be angry.”

“I think I'd have less of an issue if I didn't know that those articles were written by a room of sleazy faux-journalists. Not because they’re talking about me as if I’m some mystical creature or character from a tv show, but because they'd all make great fiction writers and they're wasting their craft.” She suddenly looked a bit forlorn, her thoughts seeming to drift. “My ex-boyfriend always told me that paparazzi and tabloids were something I’d have to get used to. He just went on and on about how ‘It comes with the job’ and ‘You asked for this’...”

“Sounds like a dick.”

“He was... At the time I thought I had to be with him, I was at a weird place in my career and my life. He really helped me find a place and find a voice... I was infatuated with him.”

Honestly, Bucky didn’t want to press the issue, but something told him it was more serious than what lay on the surface. “What happened?”

“I was young and impressionable and I didn’t realize that he was grooming me until I was in his bed and smelling like his cologne… I didn’t care either… Then he got a little handsy. God, you should’ve seen Pop-Pop’s face when he saw the bruises. I thought he was gonna round up all the living Commandos just to kill him. Hell, I thought he’d resurrect the rest...”

His expression froze. “Did this happen more than once?”

She nodded, she could tell he was searching for bruises or cuts. “Not on the face, of course. That’s where the money is.” She lifted her shirt, revealing a huge mark on her hip. “2 AM, Los Angeles, he pushed me into the corner of our kitchen counter and I got this pretty baby.” She turned around and there was a scar on her back. “I think I got this from the stairs. Can't remember. I’m not much of fighter, it’s kind of ironic.” She sighed. “Well, um, I’ve dumped enough on you, I should get back to my place. I have to keep an eye out for stray cats.”

“Is he looking for you?” Bucky asked.

She nodded, a little surprised by the question. “Always. Always, always, always. He needs me to get a paycheck.”

“You think he'd be waiting for you when you get back?”

Charlotte hadn't even thought about it, not much. But Aaron would be waiting for her, and not with flowers and chocolate. The thought made her noticeably uncomfortable. “Yeah, he'll be there. He'll be angry as all hell.”

“You should know how to fight back.”

She smiled. “You're sweet but I don't need the charity from you.”

“Wasn’t offering.” He lied.

It was so blatantly a lie that Charlotte couldn't help but laugh. “So you, with all your muscles and military experience, just brought it up for no reason?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It's not _charity_ , Charlotte.” He insisted. He looked into her eyes, trying to convey his genuine feelings. “I've fought five monsters at once, I can show you how to handle one.”

She looked down. “I don’t wanna cause you trouble.”

He shook his head. “We’ll just meet on the roof… You brought me juice, I owe you.”

Charlotte held her bottle to her chest, and it vibrated as she laughed. “So now you’re gonna teach me to fight? Your friendship’s really cheap, _James_.”

He flinched, making her flinch. “Sorry... First time I’ve heard someone call me that in a long time.”

“Does it feel weird?”

He shook his head. “Feels… okay. Just _foreign_... Meet me on the roof tomorrow, Charlotte. Rest up, eat a good breakfast.”

“Alright coach.”

She smiled and walked to her place, and Bucky didn’t know what this could lead to, but he could only hope that he was doing the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are quiet! tell me what you think :)


	4. You'll Break Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fighting is like ballroom dancing, right?

Bucky woke up early as he usually did, but for once he had something to do besides the usual routine of living in hiding. He had breakfast, cleaned himself, and got dressed as usual, then he walked over to Charlotte's place, knocking gently on her door. He could hear her shuffling around. She asked him for a moment, as if he had anything else to do, and he gave it to her.

When Charlotte came to the door, she grinned up at him with a plate of scrambled eggs in her hand. “Good morning, handsome.”

“You ready?”

She held up her fork. “You said eat a big breakfast.” She kicked the door open a little more. “You can come in if you want to.”

He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

She scooped some more eggs into her mouth and raised an eyebrow. “I forgot, I’m supposed to be keeping my distance. I think we’re a little beyond that.”

The worst part was how right she was. “The answer’s still no.”

She ate the last of her eggs. “Well, at least stand in the doorway while you wait for me, I don’t wanna shut the door on your face, that’d be rude.” 

He moved into the doorway and she went to go quickly wash her dishes. Charlotte’s apartment was the same as his, with some found furniture and a backpack, but her place was a little messier. The one thing he definitely didn’t have were the family photos hanging around on the walls, old polaroids from when she was a teenager, pictures of her friends clipped from magazines, and a few pictures of her grandfather. He could’ve sworn he spotted himself, but she came back to the door before he could get a good look.

“I’m actually kinda excited, is that good?”

He shrugged. “Better than being scared. You done any fighting before?”

She shook her head. “Just fight  _ choreography _ which is essentially dance practice with angrier facial expressions. I've never actually hit anyone.” 

Bucky could tell he had his work cut out for him, not because she wasn't capable, or because she hadn't done it before, but because she was really nice. He wasn't too sure she'd actually throw a punch. “Today you'll be hitting me.”

She furrowed her brows. “Like…  _ Hitting _ you? Hurting you?”

He chuckled dryly. “I wouldn't say that.” 

She took a deep breath. “I can do it.”

“Good.” 

He turned and started leading her to the roof when she grabbed his arm. Jolted, he looked back at her, concerned that she was backing out. 

“Something wrong?”

“I wanted to thank you again,” she replied. “Not just for teaching me, but for giving me a reason to wake up today. I’m not the best at dragging myself out of bed in the mornings, over the past few months I’ve spent entire days in bed, so thank you. I really needed this.”

He took her words in and tried to find some of his own. “It’s nothing, Charlotte.”

They made their way up to the roof and Bucky found a clear, open space for them to move around, then had Charlotte stand an arm's length away from him. 

“Put your fists up like you’re bracing for a fight.” He told her.

She raised her fists and put one foot behind the other. The slightly pained expression his face said more than enough. “What's wrong?”

“A lot. Don't tuck your thumbs into your fists, otherwise you’ll break them. Stand up straighter, put your foot further back and try not to look terrified even if you are.”

She did as he said with her body, but the face was the problem. She tried getting in the zone, closing her eyes and relaxing the muscles in her face.

“Good. Now, Charlotte, I'm gonna charge for you, okay? When I get too close I want you to punch me in my stomach as hard as you can.”

She nodded. “Let's go.”

He started lumbering towards her and she immediately shrunk and flinched as his imposing shadow covered her. He stepped back to check on her.

“Hey, Charlotte…”

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. It made him a little panicked, he thought he'd scared her like he scared everyone else, he was already mentally punishing himself for it. Charlotte was doing the same thing for cowering. 

“Fuck…”

“It's okay, Charlotte, we can start with something else.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m frustrated, it’s just, it’s  _ nothing _ … He's taller than you, you know? He used to wrestle in high school and he has this way about him… I-I think that's what scared me, it’s nothing, I can do this.”

His face softened. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I have to do  _ something _ or I've just wasted your time, right?”

Bucky felt less confident about this now, but he saw that she was committed. “Alright, I’ll start from right here this time, just pretend I charged for you and punch me in the stomach as hard as you can.” He saw that she was still nervous, and took a minute to make sure he meant the words he was about to say.  “I trust you.”

Charlotte didn't take that lightly. It was something she knew she could easily lose if she weren't careful. Bucky could slip away easily, and she didn't want that, not yet. 

He walked towards her again, this time he was closer, more mindful of his body. She delivered a punch to his stomach and he didn't even blink, but her knuckles hurt. She shook out her hand. 

“Goddamn…”

“A little gentle, we'll work on it. Can you kick harder than you punch?”

She pouted, feeling more than a little disappointed in herself. “Bucky, I think we both know that I can't fight for shit, and your body feels like it’s made of steel.”

Bucky shook his head. “Fighting’s in your blood.”

“Okay, I'm not my grandpa.” 

Then it happened, an actual genuine laugh, small and fleeting but Charlotte was so glad she didn't miss it. “Yeah, you wear a lot more pink.” She smiled at him and he cleared his throat.

“You're so…” She knew that if she said 'cute’ he'd  _ never _ speak to her again. “...Nevermind, I just hadn't seen you really smile before.”

He tried to play off the blush on his cheeks. “Not much to smile about… I think you can do this, you just have to get angry.”

“I’m not great with being angry. I mean, when I’m acting it’s easy, I have a script, but… Real anger scares me.”

His jaw clenched. “It should.”

“I remember one time, I was working on this movie and Aaron came to my trailer and he was heated because I’d gone to a bar with one of my co-stars the night before. He didn’t even hit me but being in such a tight space with him like that was enough.”

Now Bucky wanted to punch the guy… “He’s not gonna make you feel like that again.”

She stood a little straighter. “No he’s not.”

“You have to learn to throw a punch first.”

She punched him in the arm. It was just as solid as his stomach, she should’ve known. “How was that?”

“Soft.”

“Goddamnit.”

“Could you get back into your fighting stance?” She tried. She kept her back straight and put her foot where she needed to be, but her thumbs were tucked into her fists. He gently grabbed both of her hands with his flesh and blood one and pulled out her thumbs. “You’ll break them.”

Her thumb brushed against the palm of his hand and he pulled away. “Keep my thumbs out. Noted.”

* * *

 

They stayed up there for an hour. Most of Charlotte's punches were restrained, and Bucky understood but didn't feel too comfortable pushing her. Eventually they called it a day. As they walked down the stairs together, he decided to ask about the pictures on Charlotte's wall.

“On your wall, is that a picture of me?” He asked. 

Charlotte took her hair out of the ponytail holder and slid it onto her wrist. “I actually have two pictures of you.”

His eyes widened. “Can I see them?”

She nodded. “Of course, they’re pictures of you! Grandpa Gabe left them for me for the organization, I'm building an archive in his memory. I've been meaning to show them to you but I didn't wanna impose. I know it's probably freaky seeing them.”

“I need to see.” he told her. “Everything I remember from that life, that Bucky, is in photographs and museums and articles.”

She sighed. “I wish I could return the experiences from that Bucky to you somehow.”

They stood at the base of the stairs and Bucky looked blankly at the floor. “I wish he actually died when he fell off that train...” 

Charlotte’s heart absolutely ached. She held her eyes on him for the longest time. His arm whirred as his fingers fidgeted anxiously. He'd revealed too much, too soon. It was a slip of the tongue that she was never really meant to hear. “Bucky, I-”

“We should pick this fighting class up again soon. Maybe not tomorrow but soon... I'll see you later.”

He rushed to his apartment and Charlotte was left standing behind, feeling like she'd accidentally exposed a fragile nerve within her new friend.

* * *

 

Later that night, while Bucky fought to go to sleep, he heard Charlotte singing again. 

_ “Our day will come, if we just wait a while. No tears for us, think love and wear a smile…”  _

He heard her walk to his door and there was a small creak before he heard something slide under the door. 

_ “Our dreams have magic because we'll always stay in love this way, our day will come…” _

When she was gone, he walked over to the door and found a handwritten note with the two pictures of him with her grandfather inside. The note simply read:  _ “To the old man across the hall, you are not what happened to you.” _

He held the note tight in his fist and let tears start rolling down his cheeks, because he couldn't possibly bring himself to believe her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's gotta get sad before it gets happy, people


	5. Not Good to Be Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conversations get heavy and Bucky opens up a little.

Bucky Barnes had been avoiding Charlotte Jones for exactly six days. It was easy because he was so observant, he knew her patterns and routines. He knew where to hide if she saw him out in public. After saying what he'd said he wasn't sure she'd treat him the same way.

To Charlotte, it just looked like he was avoiding her. She thought she’d said something to him. She thought maybe he was trying to distance himself or get her to stop thinking about him. But she understood, even though all she found herself wanting to do during those six days was talk to Bucky.

Luckily she wouldn’t have to wait another day to talk to him again.

She'd gone to the market for some fresh bread when an oily stranger spotted her across the way. She didn't pay him much attention, she was busy giving her attention to the baker, a charming old man who thought her accent was nice.

“ _Sunteți un american!_ ” he exclaimed. She nodded and he smiled wider. “ _Ce-a făcut să doriți să învățați limba română?_ ”

“ _Bunicul meu a vorbit mai multe limbi_.”

“ _Om destept!_ ”

She smiled and handed him money for the bread. She turned to head back towards home when she ran in the stranger who’d been eyeing her, literally. Her face hit his chest.

She backed away and covered her face in embarrassment. “ _Imi pare rau!_ ”

“It's alright, American girl.” He said with a smirk.

He had rings on some of his fingers, and his expensive designer jacket reminded her of something Aaron would wear when they went to clubs. But this man was a little better looking than Aaron. He struck Charlotte as someone overly concerned with his appearance.

“By running into you I feel I've been blessed,  _înger roz_.”

She cleared her throat and kept her eyes forward. “Um, thank you. I should be heading home now.”

“Home? This place is home? You're here all by yourself in country you don't know?”

She shook her head. “I've been all over Europe, I know Bucharest just fine. And I’m not alone.”

“Worldly, multilingual, American…" His eyes traced the lines of her body. If there was any doubt in Charlotte's mind about his intentions, that look wiped them all away. Of course she was used to getting attention from creeps, but that never made it any easier to deal with. "You will make fine wife someday. Or maybe something finer than a wife...”

The man stood in the way of her clear exit and she thought she was stuck when a familiar voice arrived to help. “ _Ea este deja o soție bună_.”

The greasy man pointed to Bucky who walked over and put his arm around Charlotte's waist. “You are married? I saw no ring.”

He nodded. Charlotte quickly assumed the role and grinned at her new husband. “Happily married, we married in Paris recently. This is our second attempt at a honeymoon, this goober lost our rings when we were still in the States.”

The man sized Bucky up, straightening his shoulders to make himself seem bigger. “So you are reason she is so eager to get home, eh? You sly dog…”

Bucky put his hand on his heart. “I'm the lucky one.”

The man nodded, but Charlotte could tell that he was only half-convinced. “Congratulations, American couple. Enjoy your honeymoon.”

“We will.” They said in unison before quickly walking off.

Charlotte smiled up at him, “And the Academy Award goes to…” She squeezed his arm and looked back at the stranger. “Thank you so fucking much.”

He nodded. “That guy's always looking for tourists, trying to find pretty young women to sell. I'm glad I saw you when I did.”

Glad to see her, but it must have only been in the interest of her protection because, once they were out of his sight, Bucky let go of her and started walking ahead. “Wait, Bucky.”

He turned but didn’t stop moving. “Yeah?”

She sped up to catch up with him. “I haven't seen you in a few days, how are you?” she asked. “I've barely seen you leave your place but I thought it was something I did or said.”

He sighed. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Charlotte, I'm just not good to be around right now,” he told her. “Especially not around you, you have enough to worry about.”

She rolled her eyes. “Bucky, I’m not worried about you.” She knew that was untrue the moment it left her lips. He shook his head. “I mean, I _am_ , but I know you know what you’re doing. I know you’re okay… to a certain extent.”

They walked in silence for a moment. Bucky kept his hands in his pockets, but he didn’t mind Charlotte walking close to him, not as much as he did before.

“You did do a really good job back there,” Charlotte said with a chuckle. “I’ve worked with legends but I’ve never seen an improvised performance quite that believable.”

“It’s like putting on a mask,” he told her. “It’s easy to pretend to blend in.”

“Acting is like that. Actually no, acting is a little weirder than that. It’s like wearing someone else’s skin or stepping into someone else’s brain. The good actors are the one’s who can believably play someone entirely different from them, but the great ones are great because they know who they are and they can wipe away any trace of themselves to inhabit this other person’s world for hours at a time. It’s like…. _Shit_.” She looked up at him. “Do you know who you are, Bucky?”

The question caught him off guard. They reached their building and he stopped in front of the door. “Who I am?”

“Yeah, who you are.” she said. “And I don’t mean James Buchanan Barnes from Brooklyn who used to look after his friend. I definitely don’t mean whatever Hydra made you think you were. I mean the Bucky Barnes standing in front of me right now, who is he? Do you know?”

He looked away. “Why do you care about him?”

“Because he’s my friend and I want him to get better.”

“And then what?”

She furrowed her brows. “What?”

“What happens if I get better? Where do I go? What the hell do I do? Charlotte, I’ve killed people. That didn’t happen to me, it’s something I _did_. I can’t erase it by getting better somehow.” He walked past her. “You’re sweet, Charlotte, you really are. But you can’t fix me.”

She took a deep breath. She could feel herself beginning to cry, but she didn’t want the conversation to end like this. “Okay, fine, I know I can’t fix you, Bucky. I can barely fix myself. I know it’s bigger than me, I know it’s beyond my control. But I’ve already lost my best friend on this earth and I refuse to let go of another so easily.”

He stood still as a statue at the door. “I can’t replace Gabe.”

She sniffled and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Yeah, you don’t have his sense of humor and you’re way whiter than he was, and all of this is so temporary. One day I'll be gone and you can go back to whatever it was you were doing before I got here because I honestly doubt I'll ever mean that much to you. But there's no pain, no strings attached. I just fucking hate being by myself.”

“I don’t know how to be your friend.”

“We could literally sit in silence and only wave ‘Hello’ to each other once every few days and I’ll be fine with that but I don’t wanna feel like I’m here alone and I know you’re not gonna make it through another month if you do. You’re just not. You’re gonna kill yourself if you keep thinking about what hap- Sorry, what you’ve done.” She walked a little closer. “Take it from someone who has tried a few times to kill herself, it takes less than that for me to start drafting a note.”

Bucky finally turned around and faced her. His eyes were filled with disbelief. She didn’t have to bare her soul to him like that. She knew there was a chance he’d still say no. But she wanted to try something, and it worked. “If I wanted to be your friend, _temporarily_ , where would I start?”

“We could always start those fighting lessons up again before I get rusty. And I could make you a thermos of tea or something. I make really good tea.”

He scraped his teeth against his bottom lip. “Meet me on the roof tomorrow morning.”

She grinned. “Eat a big breakfast?”

Bucky held the door of the building open for her and she walked under his arm. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's getting a thermos of tea?  
> Translations:  
> Sunteți un american - You are an American!  
> Ce-a făcut să doriți să învățați limba română? - What made you want to learn Romanian?  
> Bunicul meu a vorbit mai multe limbi - My grandfather spoke many languages  
> Om destept! - Smart man!  
> Imi pare rau - I'm sorry  
> înger roz - pink angel  
> Ea este deja o soție bună. - She is already a good wife.


	6. The Kindest of Creeps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hardest thing about writing this fic is the fact that i'm literally making myself cry

“You look like you fell outta bed.” Charlotte told Bucky when he came to her door in the morning.

This was their fifth meeting of what Charlotte lovingly called 'Fight Club' on the roof and she had to say, Bucky could swear up and down that he wasn't a nice charming guy but she begged to differ. This was the most fun she'd had with anyone in a bit.

She handed him his thermos of tea and he handed her a candy bar. Another part of their new routine. “Did a cat sneak into your apartment?”

He shook his head. “Did a cat sneak into yours?”

“Yes! I'm lucky cats love me or I would've died.”

“I _did_ see a little cat outside your door yesterday.”

“Grey with white stripes?” He nodded. “That's not the cat that snuck in, that's Lil Buck, we're friends.”

“Do I wanna know why his name is Lil Buck?”

 _“ Her_ name is Lil Buck because she's quiet and her eyes are blue.”

He scrunched up his nose. “Oh…”

She sighed. “That reminds me, do you have a bowl I could use to give her water? She belongs to someone. She has tags and shots. But she’s so tiny and thin. I’ve been giving her tuna, that’s why she comes back.”

“Yeah, sure. Hold this, please.”

She nodded and took the thermos. Bucky went into his apartment and she took a bite of her candy bar. He came back moments later with a bowl of water, which he sat down next to her door.

“Thank you.”

He took back the thermos. “Thank _you._ ”

They walked up to the roof and Charlotte hummed as she stretched herself out. Bucky pulled his hair back. Bucky found few things more interesting about Charlotte than her love of music. She was always humming, singing, or moving to the beat in her head.

“You make music?” he asked her.

She giggled and shook her head. “My mom is a great singer. My friend Giselle is great singer, but me? I’m just… okay. I can play the guitar, but that’s it.”

“You sing so much, I just thought…”

“I get it.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Music’s good for the brain noise.” He looked a little confused. “Brain noise is what I call suicidal ideation, it sounds nicer.”

Bucky had a pensive expression. “What kind of music do you like?”

She shrugged. “A bit of everything, really. Chopin, Frank Ocean, Nine Inch Nails, Ella Fitzgerald, Green Day, Trina…”

“I know some of those.”

Could he get any cuter? Charlotte wasn’t so sure. “I could let you use my iPod, it’s stocked.”

“Sounds… fun.”

She tilted her head to side. “Does it really sound fun or are you lying to make me feel good?”

“Is your music taste as loud as your hair?” he asked.

Charlotte scoffed. “Oh so now you're taking shots at my hair? Wow, Bucky. I named a kitten after you.”

He grinned. “I like your hair.”

“Thank you, Bucky. I like yours.”

He cleared his throat. “We should try fighting at some point while we're here.”

“We will, we're just getting to know each other.” She got into her now perfected fighting stance across from him. “Ready when you are.”

He swung for her stomach and she grabbed his fist, pushing it away and punching him in the stomach. When he sighed, she knew what that meant.

“Still soft?” she asked. He nodded. “Fuck!”

“You have to make yourself angry enough to hurt me.”

“That's the problem, I can't. I like you too much. Every time I throw a punch trying to pretend it's Aaron, I can only see you.”

“You like me too much…” The idea seemed crazy to him. He admittedly liked being around Charlotte, even if he knew his developing fondness for her could get her in trouble, but he didn't get how a girl like her would want anything to do with him.

“You and Aaron are polar opposites and you just don't scare me like he does.”

Bucky tried thinking of a solution. “Is there music that makes you angry?”

“No. Even angry music makes me kinda happy.”

“How is that possible?”

She shrugged. “Even angry music has beautiful melodies, beautiful vocals, beautiful lyrics.”

“Alright, sing me a sad song.”

She cleared her throat. _“When you were here before, I couldn't look you in the eye. You're just like an angel, your skin makes me cry. You float like a feather in a beautiful world. I wish I was special, you're so fucking special…”_

“I think I know this song.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “You wanna sing it with me?”

He shook his head. “No, no, you finish.”

She nodded and went on. _“I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo, what the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here…_ See? Pretty. Depressing as fuck, but pretty too.”

Bucky wanted to see it. He wanted to see the world the way Charlotte did. The difference between them was that Charlotte saw a wonderful world that she felt she was suffering in and didn't belong anymore, and Bucky saw a cruel world that would become less cruel if he weren't there to be a weapon of cruelty. But he'd give anything to trade eyes with her, even for a day.

“So music isn't your thing. You'll find a thing or a maybe person that makes you wanna fight through it all.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Lots of pretty girls in Romania.”

“I think the metal arm's a turn-off.”

“I think it's special, y’know? How many guys do you know walking around with metal arms?” she asked. “Me? Once you tear away all the fame and makeup and everything, I'm a mess. I'm a complete disaster. I've only dated one man in my life and he hits me, I've tried to kill myself like three times, I'm either too thin or too fat-”

“Kind.” Bucky said.

“What?”

“You’re kind. There’s not that many kind people around, never were. One of the things that made me trust you was how kind you were to me, without motives.”

“To be fair, you didn’t have to burn those letters with me so you’re pretty kind too.” Charlotte smiled and got back into her fighting stance. “This isn’t really helping my ‘can’t hit Bucky hard enough’ problem, you know that, right?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’ll figure something out one of these days.”

He swung at her a few quick times and she dodged every single swing. “You’re really good at dodging.”

She laughed. “Yeah, at the very least I’ve gotten better at just not getting hit.”

He swung again and she dodged. “You’d be surprised by the amount of people who don’t know how to dodge.”

She groaned. “Doesn’t make me feel better.”

* * *

 

_Полет был отказом. Имущество необходимо наказать._

The Soldier shivered in the cold. The winter adding frost to the metal on his arm. It was the first time he’d failed. It was the first time he’d missed. They threw him into a dark room to await his fate.

_Полет был отказом. Имущество будет наказано._

He could could hear the heavy boots approaching the door, and for a moment he thought about putting up a fight. But the last of them to do that…. _Bang!_ A shot to the head without a second thought. Asset eliminated. The Soldier knew he was no different than them. He was one failure away from a gunshot to the head, a cold grave somewhere in the tundra. The Soldier was the original, but he wasn’t irreplaceable, not anymore.

_Оботрите его. Настолько не драматический._

There was no escape. Not this time. The last time he escaped the punishment was something he’d never forget, no matter how many times they “wiped” him, he’d never forget.

_Побейте его, тогда оботрите его._

Now he wasn’t just shivering from the cold. The heavy door opened and the men in their army gear rushed in and grabbed him. Except, he knew he was in a dream, because he started to yell. In a memory this wouldn’t have happened. He would’ve gone limp and taken his punishment the way he was meant to. But he was screaming. He was screaming out for help, for a friend, for anything.

_“Bucky?”_

The voice sounded so far away, like it was coming from the end of a tunnel. But The Soldier knew it and he heard it.

_“Bucky, are you okay?”_

“Charlotte!”

_“Bucky, I’m here!”_

“No, you’re not! You can’t be! Are they hurting you?”

_“No one’s hurting me, Bucky! Wake up!”_

“Charlotte…”

_“Bucky, wake up!”_

Suddenly his eyes opened and he gasped for air. Charlotte wrapped his blanket around his shoulders. He shook and looked around,. It was still dark, just a few minutes past 3 AM he was safe, he was in his apartment. He wasn’t The Soldier anymore.

“I got you.” Charlotte whispered to him before his eyes closed again and he slipped back into unconsciousness. Even after, she held him tighter. “I got you, Bucky… I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Полет был отказом. Имущество необходимо наказать. - Mission failed. The Asset must be punished.  
> Полет был отказом. Имущество будет наказано. - Mission failed. The Asset will be punished.  
> Оботрите его. Настолько не драматический. - Wipe him. Don't be dramatic.  
> Побейте его, тогда оботрите его. - Beat him, then wipe him.


	7. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got done WAY early but i hope you don't mind :)

Bucky woke up and saw Charlotte curled up in her blanket with a book. She’d stayed with him and stayed awake the whole night, only leaving to go to the bathroom and grab a book.

Bucky’s brows knit together when he realized that she’d stayed. She’d watched him sleep to make sure he was okay. She’d lost hours of rest, and it was evident by the darkness under her eyes and the way she seemed to be forcing them open when they threatened to shut. She didn’t have to, she really didn’t have to.

He sat up and she looked up at him. “How do you feel?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Exhausted, as always.”

Charlotte let out a huge yawn and stretched her arms. “It was a long night.”

He looked at the floor. “You shouldn't have seen that…” he whispered. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

She set her book to the side and picked at the chipping polish on her nails. “I was going to see something eventually.”

“Did you sleep _at all_?”

“I was a little busy making sure that you did, and you did… Sorta. I've never seen someone sleep like that before.”

“Like what?”

“You just… I came in and you were screaming about needing help and asking if I'd been hurt. Then I held you and you passed out. You stayed 'sleep' after that I gues but you seemed like you were in pain the whole time, you were whimpering and shivering. I didn't wanna wake you up again, so I didn’t, but it was hard to watch.”

His head hurt. He rubbed his palm against his forehead. “It was a bad nightmare. Weird nightmare,” he replied. He looked so guilty. “Please tell me I didn't hurt you or anything...”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, Bucky, you didn’t. But if you did, I wouldn’t be mad. You were terrified by whatever it was you saw.”

She walked over to him and gently tipped his face towards her. He pulled away at first, not used to the touch, but then let her look at his face. His lips were dry and he’d sweat so much that his hair clung to his forehead. It was hard to see him like this, but she knew how to make it a little better.

“Sit tight.” She went to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of water and a wet rag. “Can I touch you again, Bucky? I’m sorry I didn’t ask the first time.”

He nodded. She dabbed his face with the cool rag and he drank the water. Charlotte was using the lightest possible touch, like she was afraid she’d provoke him if she didn’t. Years of living with a man who was easily provoked did that to her.

“I didn't know how to help you, that was the worst part.”

He looked up at her, his eyes the softest she’d ever seen them. “Being here was more than enough. I can't remember the last time I didn't wake up alone after one of those.”

She grinned. “Friends help friends, y’know?” She sighed. “Can I move your hair, can you move it?”

He nodded and she moved his hair from the back of his neck and dabbed the rag along the back of his neck. For some reason it relaxed him, he wondered how she’d learned to do that.

“On the bright side, now I at least had a reason to be walking around the building at 3 am.” Her hand brushed the back of his shirt and she pulled it back and wiped it on her leg. “I gotta wash this shirt for you. You are sweaty as _fuck_.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “I could do it later.”

She shook her head and carried the rag back into the kitchen. “All you gotta do right now is hydrate and shower. I’ll wash your shirt and grab myself some breakfast.”

He sighed. He didn’t want her taking care of him, she needed to take care of herself. But Charlotte’s persistence was hard to argue with. “Alright, suit yourself.”

He stood up and took off his shirt and, by the time Charlotte turned around, he was bare in front of her from the waist up. She’d expected Bucky to be built but this was ridiculous. He was muscle, big and stocky. His body was so beautiful, Charlotte’s thoughts became clogged. It felt insanely inappropriate how flustered she’d become, given the circumstances and the fact that this was _Bucky_.

Always cool under pressure, she cleared her throat and took his shirt from him. “Um, do you want breakfast? I could bring you something after…” She stared at his broad chest and then brought her eyes back up to his. “...you shower…”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

She nodded. Of course he could eat, he was built like a two-story house. “Okay then, I’ll bring you like a bagel or something.”

“Thank you, Charlotte. I mean that.”

She smiled. “You’d do the same thing for me.”

“You believe that?”

She shrugged and started heading out to the laundromat. “Believing is one thing, knowing is another.”

* * *

 

Charlotte returned to Bucky’s door with breakfast about half an hour later. Luckily for her he had a shirt on, but he was still drying his hair with an old t-shirt when he let her in and she put the bag on his kitchen counter.

“I told you I was getting you a bagel, right?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She smiled and handed the toasted bagel over to him. “Good, I would hate to disappoint.” He took a bite and she sipped her coffee. “Alright so, I know that this is the dumbest question I could possibly ask, but are you feeling any better?”

Surprisingly, he nodded. “I would feel worse right now had you not been there.”

“I couldn't not be there. You mean too much to me.” He couldn’t pretend to hide the smile on his face, hers lit up when she saw it. “It’s really nice outside today.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, we should go for a walk.”

“Like a date?” He asked with a smirk, recalling what she said to him the night they burned her letters.

She covered her face. “Please don’t make me relive that bad joke.”

“I don’t really take walks, too much of a risk.”

“Fine, we’ll go up to the roof, then, watch the sunset or something. Not a date. Is that too much of a risk?” He shook his head. “So it’s settled. We should head up at, like, six?”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” Charlotte pulled her hair into a bun and headed for the door. “You need some sun anyway, it’s good for your health."

"Wait, where are you going?"

Her eyes widened. Either she was going completely crazy or Bucky didn't want her to leave, not that he'd ever admit to it. "I’m gonna head back to the laundromat. A lady using the machine next to me looked at me like I was crazy for only washing one shirt… Or she was looking at me because I was Black… I can never tell. I'll be back.”

“Want me to go with you?” 

She already had one foot out the door. “Nope, I want you to stay here and eat. I _will_ be back, Bucky. My breakfast is still here.”

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair and took another bite of his bagel as Charlotte walked out the door. He ran that short exchange through his head again and cringed. "Why the fuck did I ask where she was going?..."


	8. Feel Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going through a nine inch nails phase right now, let it happen, it'll be over soon. here's the song https://youtu.be/kPz21cDK7dg or you could try the johnny cash version, idk, i'm not in charge of you it's just a very Bucky song, y'know?

The dusk was quiet. Bucky and Charlotte sat on the roof in silence, watching the sun set over Bucharest. Charlotte gave him one of her earbuds so he could listen to music with her. They just needed to be quiet for a little, they needed a pause button.

She sat with her knees to her chest, leaning forward as if she could somehow get a closer look at the colors. The sky lit up with pinks, oranges, and purples. It was so vibrant and alive.

Bucky watched the sunset, but he was also watching Charlotte. The way the colors reflected off of her hair, her eyes, and her skin…

He pulled his eyes away when she turned to him. “It’s nice, right?”

“Yeah, it’s real nice…”

She took a deep breath and nudged him with her elbow. “I’m glad you came up here with me,” she said. “I haven’t sat still, quietly, for a while. I’ve always been a little scared to be alone with my thoughts that’s why I stick to the big cities... So, I’m happy to not be alone. Am I ruining the moment?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been alone so long, I think I forgot how it felt to want to be around someone.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, I really hope that someone is me or this is really awkward.”

They laughed and their eyes moved back to the sky. It was a shame that Bucharest was such a big city, Charlotte was in the mood to see stars and she knew the closest she’d get after the sun finished setting were satellites.

Charlotte’s music kept playing on in the background. When she mentioned her music being a mixed bag, she wasn’t kidding. But Bucky couldn’t help but notice that, even though it was all extremely different, it all fit her.

Some of the songs were loud and angry. The lyrics were frustrated and self-deprecating. Others were soft and gentle, about love and longing to be taken care of. There songs about feeling closed in and feeling depressed, lovers turned sour and familial bonds.

The next song was a little different, and it must’ve been different to Charlotte, too, because her foot stopped tapping once she realized what it was.

_I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel_

_I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real_

Charlotte picked with the sleeves of her hoodie and Bucky heard her sniffling. She ran her fingers through her hair. “This is the song I was listening to when my mom called me to tell me about grandpa Gabe…” She wiped her eyes. “I didn’t listen to it for months, and then at the music festival I went to it played between sets and I fucking dissociated in the middle of a mosh pit like an idiot.”

“Do you not wanna listen to it?”

She shook her head. “Lately, I’ve been forcing myself to. It used to be one of my favorite songs and the last thing I’d want is for it to be tainted for me forever.”

_What have I become, my sweetest friend?_

_Everyone I know goes away in the end_

_You could have it all, my empire of dirt_

_I will let you down, I will make you hurt_

_“ This_ used to be one of your favorite songs?” Bucky asked her.

She giggled. “I know, it’s super perky and happy and cheerful. But, I don’t know… Something about it’s so raw. I’ve never heard a rendition I didn’t like. One day I’ll love it as much as I used to. I hope I do.” She looked back at the sky. “At least I still like sunsets, and I still like music, and now I like Bucky Barnes.”

“You’re not tired of me yet?”

She shook her head. “I’m actually shocked that you aren’t tired of me,” she said. “First time I met Sam Wilson, Steve’s friend-”

“I know him.”

“Yeah, he’s a sweetheart. I think I talked his ear off but he was too nice to tell me to go away.”

Bucky chuckled. “You don’t have an annoying voice.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from being an annoying person.”

He turned to her. “You’re _really_ not.”

She smiled. “Believe it or not, that’s one of the nicest things anyone has said to me in a very long time.”

The song started to play itself out, and the sun was almost done setting. The bright lights of the Romanian city lit up beneath them. Charlotte assumed that Bucky would want to go back inside and try to get some sleep.

She tapped his leg. “You wanna go inside?”

He replied with a nod and she started getting ready, but then he followed it up with something she didn’t quite expect. “Could you stay in my apartment tonight?” He almost looked desperate. _“Please?”_

She nodded. “My blanket’s still on the couch, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” She checked the time on her iPod and noticed that her battery was drained. “I gotta charge this. Fuck, I wish we could stay up here longer.”

He handed her the bud that was in his ear and she wrapped the cord around her iPod. They got up and headed back inside. They made it back to their floor and Charlotte walked over to her door. “I’ll take a shower at my place and be right over.”

“Alright.”

* * *

 

Charlotte stepped into the shower, the water was never as hot as it could've been, it didn't come down as hard as she wanted it to, but it got the job done. She started singing in the shower, thinking about the colors in the sunset and the good day she'd had with Bucky despite their night being so scary.

But all her days with Bucky so far had been good days. This is what she'd remember most when she got home. She couldn't believe she'd gotten him to laugh a little and smile, though sometimes it seemed like he was trying his hardest to attach the emotion the action. Even more, she couldn't believe that he got _her_ to laugh and smile.

Whatever happened to her when she left Romania, Bucky would be her best memory. His voice was in her head now, she knew his eyes, she knew him. That’s something not even Steve Rogers could really say anymore.

Charlotte caught herself thinking about all of this with a goofy grin on her face, the water rushing over her without her moving an inch. She turned it off and stepped out, quickly slipping into an over-sized shirt and a pair of cotton shorts to sleep in and headed across the way to Bucky’s place. He was laying on his bed already, staring at the wall when she knocked on his door.

“It’s unlocked,” he told her.

She walked inside. “Seriously? Anyone could break in, Bucky.”

“That’s not really a problem.”

Charlotte remembered that Bucky was a former assassin with enough muscle to break through cement and she quickly took that comment back. “Can I lock the door anyway?”

He nodded. “If it makes you feel safer, sure. But I’m not letting anything happen to you, you know that, right?”

She locked the door and laid down on the couch, pulling the blanket up to her chin and gazing at Bucky. The gaze wasn’t even _almost_ tender, she’d passed tender a while ago. “I know.”


	9. Burning

“I don't care if you have to check the Black Forest, a source said he saw her in Berlin and Romania so you need to look in Berlin and fucking Romania!”

Giselle burst into Aaron's office with her switchblade open, the guard chased after her. It was useless as she pushed past chairs, knocking things from his desk to get to him. Aaron backed up and tried defusing the situation the only way he knew how: Being a dickhead.

“Woah, woah, woah, bitch! How the fuck did you get in here?! Is that a fucking knife?!”

Giselle pointed the blade at his face. “You _tapped into my phone,_ you conniving ugly psychopathic white man?!” The guard reached for her arm and she turned the blade towards him. “I wouldn’t do that, I’ve used this for less.”

Aaron told the guard to stand back and pushed the blade away. “I knew that if Charlotte called anyone-”

Giselle didn’t put the blade away, but she lowered it. “I don't know where she is, you fuck! Her mom has her cell phone! You'd know that if she liked you.”

“She's just confused,” he told her. “About as confused as your ethnicity. What are you, Chinese? Russian?”

“I have half a mind to cut off your dick and use it as a prop in my next show.”

“That's disgusting.”

“So are you. Me, Lottie's mom, and Steve _fucking_ Rogers have been asking paparazzi not to look for her and you're ordering hits out on her? You're such a bitch, you're the Beyoncé of bullshit men. They should give you an award. When you die, they should bottle up your brain for med students to study.”

“Ordering hits? I'm trying to find your stupid friend, make sure she's safe, bring her home. Any creep could’ve gotten her by now. She’s been on just about every landmass except Antarctica at this point”

Giselle was no fool. She’d been in show business as long as Charlotte, and knew a leech when she saw one. Aaron looked like a leech, smelled like a leech, and talked like a leech.

“Oh please, you're not trying to find my friend, you’re trying to find your paycheck and her warm mouth.” Giselle tossed her blade into the air. “Speaking of which, she begged me not to file a sexual assault report against you because she didn’t want a storm of press attacking either of you. When she gets back, you can send her a thank you note in the mail.”

Aaron scoffed. “Sexual assault… you're out of your mind.”

“I'm very lucid today actually. If I were out of my mind, you'd be dead by now.”

“I'm starting to think you want me, Giselle.” She rolled her eyes. “No, no, it makes perfect fucking sense now. You want me, and that’s why you don’t want me to find Charlotte, so you can have me to yourself.”

She pointed at herself. “Guess who doesn’t like men and, even if I did, I would rather date Hulk Hogan than you. I’d rather date Chuck Norris than you.” She pointed her blade at him again. “When you coerce a woman into sleeping with you through your position of power, that’s textbook sexual assault. That’s what you did to her, and then you started hurting her.”

“I didn’t coerce Charlotte. You know that.” He smirked. “She wanted me, I wanted her, it was magic, it was fate.”

“I’ll fucking kill you.”

He turned to the guard. “That’s a threat, did you hear that?” The guard nodded. “Take her outta my office.”

The guard grabbed Giselle’s switchblade before she could protest and lifted her up by her waist. She kicked and screamed as he dragged her from the room. Giselle was tiny, but she wasn’t easy to control.

“Fuck you! Leave her alone! I’m gonna find her before you do and I’m gonna keep her the fuck away from you forever, do you hear me?! You will _never_ put your hands on her again!”

Aaron waved goodbye and smiled. “When Charlotte gets back, me and her are gonna have a talk about cutting off certain friends.”

* * *

 

Somehow Bucky and Charlotte slept through the morning. They went to the grocery store and when they came back, Charlotte made Bucky the best coffee he’d had in his life. She could swear she saw him warm up from the inside. They ate breakfast in mostly silence, occasionally breaking into conversation when something came to mind.

This had been their routine for the past week, with Charlotte spending far more nights in his apartment than she’d expected to.

“What was college like?” He asked her. “Was it easy?”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Nothing about college was easy. For starters, my grandfather wanted me to go to Howard or Spelman. That didn’t happen.”

“Was he upset?”

She grinned. “He wouldn’t say he was, but he didn’t have to either. Then, when I got to school, everyone knew me. I couldn’t get coffee without someone asking me about a movie or an actor or an awards show. I changed majors like five times. Plus, I wasn’t acting as much as I wanted to because I had schoolwork. But it was worth it in the end. For me, at least.”

He hummed as he took another sip of coffee. “I don’t remember school much, but I remember dropping out real early to work.”

She nodded. “That was common.” She smirked. “Thinking about going back to school, are we?” He shook his head. “You didn’t ask but I think you’d make a great student and you have my support. You could stay with me while you get your degree.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

She sighed. “I think it’s a little early for that kind of negativity, sir.”

“I’m really glad you think a school’s gonna take a 95 year old enhanced soldier. That says a lot about you.”

“Buck, I took a sophomore psych class with a 70 year old named Maria who told me the best way to a long life is to not live in New Jersey. I really don’t think you’ll stand out that much.”

“I think you’re just used to me.”

Charlotte giggled and tucked some hair behind her ear. “Probably so.”

She stared at him, her inner voice dying to tell him how much he meant to her, and how easy he was to care about, but it felt too emotional, and it felt immature. She knew better than to feel this way about him.Something happened during that week, something neither of them expected. It happened so quietly it would've gone unnoticed if not for the way their pulses changed when they saw each other smile, and the way the silence didn't feel so lonely if they were silent together. Both of them were burning but neither of them said a single word about it.

He finished his coffee and cleaned his mug in the sink behind her. “Do you need me to stay here again tonight?”

She noticed him stop moving for second, take a deep breath, and start again. “I don’t think so.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

He nodded. “I know, Charlotte,” he said. “But I’m fine, really. As fine as I can be.”

“Alright.”

Before she could convince herself not to do it, Charlotte wrapped her arms around Bucky’s waist. Bucky stiffened up at first, before turning and putting his flesh and blood arm around her shoulders. He didn’t pull her close, he didn’t close any gaps between them. The contact was enough. Being with Charlotte came with enough affection to drown him.

“You are making it really fucking hard to leave Bucharest.” She told him.

“How?”

“Because I don’t want you to be alone.”

He sighed. He didn’t want her to go either. “I’ve been fine alone.”

“I don’t care.” She pulled away. “I want to see what happens to you so badly. I think about it all the time.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t worry about you…” She looked down. “I’m gonna take my stuff back over to my place, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Charlotte gathered her blanket and her book in her arms, and Bucky just watched her get ready to go back to her apartment. He had so much to say, so much to express to her, but he didn’t have the words. He had trouble attaching emotions to his memories, they were there, but they still felt so distant. But he felt so much for Charlotte. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this much.

She started walking to the door, but Bucky couldn't help himself, his instinct overrode his reason for once. If he wasn’t going to say something to her, he had to _do_ something. Something clicked in his mind when she mentioned leaving, like she’d pressed a panic button.

He quickly caught her arm. She dropped everything and he pressed her against the wall. The way he looked at her made her thoughts freeze.

She licked her lips. “What is it?”

She could see his breathing picking up, his heavy chest rose and fell while his eyes searched hers, checking to see if she'd figured him out already. A part of him believed she had.

“You are doing something to me, Charlotte…” he whispered. “What are you doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued, hopefully soon :)


	10. Tangled Up In Knots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a rule i always allow my babies exactly five minutes of happiness before things get dicey again  
> this is bucky and charlotte's five minutes  
> basically the second part of chapter 9. things get sexual in this one... "things get sexual", it's fucking smut  
> i edited the shit outta this so i hope it's good but when is my smut ever really good??  
> 

Charlotte stared at Bucky in disbelief. Her heart was beating out of her chest. He looked equally as shocked by his own question.

“You… Wait, Bucky…”

He let her go and tried thinking of an explanation. Words weren’t forming the way he wanted them to.  “I’m so confused, Charlotte, because I still want you to stay away from me but the thought of you leaving almost hurts,” he told her. “I’m so worried about what’ll happen when you’re too far away for me to reach... or what would happen if I got too close.”

“Bucky…”

“Something’s happening to me, Charlotte. And it feels so good, but it feels so fucking scary.”

“Bucky, what exactly are you saying?” she asked. “Give it to me straight.”

Those eyes, he’d do anything for those eyes… “Whenever I’m with you, even if it’s for a moment, I… Don’t feel like myself, whatever that means, but I feel like someone…” He reached up and touched her cheek, his hand was shaking and his grin was weak, but she could tell that he meant it. “I don’t feel like an arm or a weapon when I’m with you. I feel like _someone_.”

She smiled and reached up, wrapping her hand around his. “You are someone,” she said. “And that someone that you are has given me a reason to wake up every morning for the past few weeks.”

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing. _“I_ give you a reason to-”

“It was cloudy for awhile there, before you came along. I didn’t see myself having much to look forward to but now I have you, and suddenly I’m thinking about futures and wondering what’ll happen tomorrow and, fuck, I haven’t done that in years.”

“Charlotte, you can’t be serious.”

“Serious as the grave.”

He shook his head. “All I’m gonna end up doing is causing you pain.”

“I’m not new to pain.”

“Yeah, but you’re too good for that.”

“And you’re too good to be in pain forever, Bucky Barnes.” A tear rolled down her cheek and his thumb quickly swept it away.  “And I keep thinking about how maybe one day we’ll be sitting in a little coffee shop somewhere, telling jokes, and drinking real coffee like human fucking beings and we’ll be _okay_ . Maybe not happy yet, but _okay_.”

Bucky’s eyes were welling up, he fought the tears and leaned in, nuzzling her nose with his, his lips were now just inches from hers, but he was holding back. “You really believe that?”

She nodded. “I have to believe in something,” She looked at his lips and swallowed her fear. “Like I believe you want me right now, but you’re afraid.”

He let his hands rest on her hips, his fingers toying with the fabric of her dress. “I’m terrified.”

“Tell me you want me, Bucky.”

The metal hand gripped the dress. “I want you, Charlotte.”

Then, before he could pull away, she pressed her lips to his, stealing a kiss. She just wanted one. Even if she got nothing more, she wanted _one_.

Bucky’s eyes stayed open, focused on hers. Her lips were so soft, just like he thought they’d be. He was remembering how to do this, remembering how much he’d liked it before, with pretty boys and girls at jazz clubs. The stars in their eyes. Charlotte was hurting too much to have stars in her eyes, and she didn’t need them.

The warm hand touching her face moved down to her waist, pulling her closer to him. His eyes shut as he kissed her the way she should’ve been kissed, slowly, every inch of him full of affection for her. He’d think about this later, he’d beat himself up about it later, he just wanted to _feel_.

He pulled away for a second to see how she felt. She furrowed her brows. “Why’d you stop?”

He smirked. “I’m sorry.”

His metal hand gently held her chin as he pulled the kiss further. Now she was pinned to the wall. She tugged his shirt, needing to touch something. She’d been so touch starved that even this kiss was almost too much.

He must’ve gotten the message, because he used the hand on her waist to lift her up on the wall without much effort. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he held her thighs in place. Bucky didn’t miss a beat, even daring to slip in his tongue before she was fully settled on the wall. Charlotte was starting to get the idea that she may have underestimated him by not taking into account what decades of frustration will do to a man.

They pulled apart to breathe and she instantly missed the taste of him. They couldn’t keep their lips apart. “Here-” _Kiss._ “Or the-” _Kiss._ “Bed?”

She could feel herself getting excited just by him asking the question. “Mmm, bed, definitely.”

He carefully carried her off the wall and knelt on the edge of his mattress, laying her down so carefully in contrast to the needy kiss they were sharing.

He sat back on his heels and slowly pulled off his shirt. This wasn’t the first time he’d been shirtless in front of her but in this context he was a little self-conscious. Until, that is, Charlotte sat up and started kissing his jaw and his neck, down his shoulder to the skin connecting scarred flesh to metal. She kissed him gently there and instead of stinging like it usually did, it tickled.

He lifted her head up. “You don't have to do that,” he said. “You don't have to pretend to like it.”

She kissed him. “I'm not pretending, Bucky. I love your body.”

“I'm afraid to touch you with it.”

She shook her head and pressed a finger to his lips. “Bucky, it's your _arm_ , please don't be afraid to use your arm.”

He nodded, although he was still reluctant. He'd be careful, because Charlotte believed he could be.

She started getting undressed, pulling off her dress. She slowly undid her bra and threw it to the side. She laid on her back with her legs spread.

“So are you ever gonna touch me, Bucky?”

He swallowed. “Give me a moment,” he said.

Charlotte didn't know what adoration looked like in a man's eyes until that moment. She could practically feel Bucky's heart beating out of his chest. Looking at her, naked and beautiful and his. It was too good to be true.

He leaned over her and ran his fingers along the curves of her body. He put his knee between her legs, keeping them apart, and he kissed her from her neck to her bellybutton and back up again, his hair and stubble tickled her skin as he moved.

He brought himself back up to her lips and kissed her harder than before. He took her breath away. He moved his warm hand to her inner thigh and she moaned the closer he got to her heat.

He ran his fingers against her panties, already so wet for him. He groaned into her mouth and started rubbing her through her panties. When he pulled away from the kiss, his lips were red and pretty.

“I'm gonna make you feel so good…” he whispered. “Good as you make me feel…”

He slid her panties off and ran his fingers along her wet folds. She hissed, it'd been so long since anyone touched her there and Bucky was staring into her soul. His jaw clenched when felt her entrance practically dripping for him. His fingers focused there while his palm brushed against her clit.

Charlotte’s lips parted, soft moans slipping through. Bucky thought the sound was so beautiful, and he wanted to hear it again and again. He wasn't convinced Charlotte wasn't an angel or a figment of his imagination.

He kissed and sucked her neck, dragging his tongue down to her breasts, swirling around the erect nipples, teasing one with his thumb while handling the other with his mouth.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a little, and he must've liked that as teeth suddenly scraped against the skin of her chest. She moaned louder. Bucky wrapped his cold arm, under her back, around her waist, giving him a new angle to play with.

He slowly, carefully pushed two fingers inside of her, pulling them out, then pushing them further, all the way to the knuckle. She moved her hips on him, trying to get him to move, so he held her closer to his chest, keeping her still as she tried squirming out of his grip.

He started pumping his fingers in and out of her. Drenching himself in her wetness, feeling how warm, soft, and tight she was. More hickies were on her neck and shoulders, as he bit and sucked, claiming territory that didn't necessarily belong to him, to anyone. But, because their time together was so limited, he felt pressure to make her remember this, every second of it.

He fucked her with his fingers, keeping a deliberate pace, his palm still brushed against her clit and his mouth was still dancing across her dark skin. It was all starting to overwhelm her. She threw her head back and grabbed onto the bed. He was having a hard time keeping her still, but that was just because he'd found her most sensitive spot.

“Bucky, oh God, _Bucky_ …”

She felt her climax building. He focused on her sweet spot, curling his fingers inside of her. His eyes flew up to watch her come undone from his hand.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she felt herself tighten around his fingers as her orgasm rushed through her veins like a drug. He kept going, pulling her through it, he could've cum just by watching her.

When she was done, he pulled his fingers out, and she whined from their absence. He kissed her, she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, clearly still coming down from her haze.

“Do you know what you taste like?” he asked. She shook her head.

He lifted his soaking fingers up to his lips, swirling his tongue around them until he'd gotten all of her sweetness on his tongue. Then he kissed her again, and she tasted herself on his mouth, it was the most erotic thing she'd ever done.

His lips hovered over hers and he grinned. “Best thing I've ever tasted.” He kissed her jaw and rested his hand on her knee. “I want to feel you so bad, Charlotte, I can't wait.”

“P-Please, Bucky…”

He sat up and quickly worked at undoing his belt, throwing it along with his pants and underwear to the side. She didn't get a good look at him before he crawled back between her legs but she could feel his dick along her upper thigh, and he wasn't small.

He stroked himself with his hand a little bit, rubbing his tip along her wetness. She whimpered in reply and actually started begging for it.

“Bucky, _please_. Let me feel you.”

“Let me know if I get carried away.”

She kissed his jaw and neck. “Let your body have what it wants.”

The metal hand gently held her face still, and he kissed her, a little unfocused as he lined himself up at her entrance. He slowly slid into her for the first time and they both moaned at the sensation. She was a little tight from her orgasm, and he stretched her out, filling her perfectly.

He pulled out, but not completely before pushing back in, all the way to the hilt. She'd never felt something like this, but the look of ecstasy on her face almost made Bucky lose control. They stayed still for awhile so she could adjust. Their bodies curved against each other with his almost completely covering hers.

He pulled away from the kiss and kissed her cheeks, then he slowly thrust forward. Her hands had been resting on his shoulders and her nails dug in as he started to move, slowly, deliberately. He was fucking her like he loved her but didn't have the vocabulary for it yet. All he knew is he had was this feeling for her, bound up inside, that grew when she smiled and laughed and every time she moaned. He wanted her to feel that feeling, and feel it all.

Charlotte was already thinking about a next time, wondering how it would be years from now. She must have forgotten who was inside of her, because Bucky was just worried about that moment, right there, with her. He didn't worry about futures, and he didn't want to unless she was in those futures with him.

Hands hooked around the backs of her knees, pulling her legs further apart and giving him the perfect angle to completely wreck her. He went deeper, harder, faster. Grunting and moaning, his hair fell to the front of his face which still held that adoration but it was adoration clouded completely with lust.

“Bucky… _Bucky_ …”

He held the back of her neck, keeping up his quick pace. “You sound so pretty, baby.”

Her voice only got higher pitched as he leaned down, kissing her cheeks, practically growling in her ear. “Oh fuck, Bucky!”

 _“Tu ești totul pentru mine,”_ he whispered. _“Vă mulțumesc, mi totul.”_

She could feel herself nearing the edge again. He was too, but he was holding back. “Ah, _James_!”

“Come on, baby, come on…” he whispered. He gripped her thigh, tight enough to leave a mark, hitting the right spot inside of her at just the right pace. He reached down between them and started rubbing her clit. “You feel so good, so _so_ good. You’re so good.”

It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, her practically singing his name. Their skin slapping together. The walls of the room bouncing every noise they made back to his ears. Her eyes squeezed tight as her second climax eclipsed the last. She was so perfect, so beautiful. He wanted to stay in that moment forever.

He fucked her through her orgasm, slowing down as he felt her shiver through the last of it, then he pulled out. She came to her senses after a moment, and furrowed her brows.

“Y-You didn’t finish.” She was so fucked out and her voice sounded so sweet, it wouldn’t take much for him to finish at all. “Let me get you off, okay?”

He nodded. She rolled on top of him and wrapped her fingers around his length, running a thumb along his tip. He was so obsessed with her moans, but the noise he made as his pretty eyes fluttered shut was so gorgeous to her.

She pumped his shaft, not using much pressure at all. He bucked his his hips up into her hand. She leaned down and kissed his neck and his Adam’s apple. “You are my everything, too.”

He ran his fingers through her hair as he felt himself reach his peak. “Ch-Charlotte, _God_ …” The word dripped off his tongue like a prayer and he released into her hand, and onto both of their chests. His head fell back and he let out something akin to a gasp and a growl that vibrated against her lips.

When they were done, he pulled her close, kissing her lazily. She smiled against his lips and pulled away. “You’re so amazing.”

He shook his head. “ _You’re_ amazing, I just lucked out.”

She pressed her forehead to his and his hand rested on her back. She’d never felt warmer in anyone else’s arms or anyone else’s bed. She couldn’t help but think _that_ was what sex was meant to feel like. _That’s_ what all the stories were about.

Now she was all bashful, as if it’d been her first time. She giggled and hid her face in his shoulder, making him laugh too. “Let’s go get cleaned up, handsome.”

He smiled. “Alright.”

She kissed him one last time before standing up and leading Bucky to the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Tu ești totul pentru mine - You're everything to me  
> Vă mulțumesc, mi totul - Thank you, my everything


	11. Like a Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i had fun writing this

The afternoon hummed past quietly. Bucky and Charlotte took a shower and got dressed and cooked only to fall asleep on the couch for what seemed like an eternity. She laid her head on his chest and he held her tightly there. Their legs spilled over the arm and side of the couch and there was hair everywhere. It was the best sleep they'd had in months. For Bucky, it was probably the best he'd had in decades.

With the exception of them having sex, it was a pretty quiet day in Bucky's apartment. A day of rest, something both of them needed desperately. Charlotte lifted her head up only to lay it back down again when she noticed how dark it was.

“Fuck me…” She gently tapped Bucky’s chest until she felt him move underneath her. “Bucky…”

“Yeah?”

“You awake? It’s...” She checked the time. “1 AM.”

“I am now.” He shifted so that he was sitting up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “God, you're beautiful.”

“I'm surprised you can see me, it's dark as hell in here.”

“Enhanced sight, remember?”

Charlotte giggled. “If your sight's so enhanced, why can't you see the dried drool on my chin?”

“That doesn't make you less beautiful.”

She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “What were we doing before we fell asleep?”

He grinned. “We were supposed to go for a walk.”

“Can we still go for a walk?... It could be like a date.”

He kissed the top of her head like it was something he did every morning. “Sure.” He followed that answer with a pause and a deep, resigned sigh. “So, what is this exactly?”

“Like, what is…” She gestured between them.

“Yeah.”

Charlotte shrugged. “It is what it is… I don't think either of us are ready for the r-word at this stage in our lives.”

“R-word?”

“ _Relationship_ ,” she replied. “But that doesn't mean we aren't anything, we're definitely _something_.”

“We're together.”

She nodded. “Yeah, we're together. No pressure, no stress, just us being us together. For now.”

Bucky stared up at the ceiling. “Do you regret it?”

She shook her head. “Do you?”

He almost laughed at the question. Being with her was the happiest he'd been in so long. He couldn't regret it if he tried. But she was still who she was and he was still him, so the question remained on his mind.

“I don't regret a thing I've done since I met you.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“I just worried that I wasn't good enough, it's been so long…”

“I've never had sex that good in my life,” she said. She bit her lip. “I mean there's lots of things I still haven't done, but…”

“Like what?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “No one's ever… Aaron never… I've never been eaten out before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Well, for Aaron, sex was always about him so… I never ever really got serviced before, y'know?”

He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Well, let’s go for that walk and when we get back, I’ll do something about that.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Oh, Bucky, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, setting her down beside him while he stood up and stretched. “After the walk.”

Charlotte smirked. “So you just gon’ start teasing me now?”

He slipped on his jacket and smiled. “Is it gonna bother you?”

She pulled her hoodie on over her head and took Bucky’s hand. He didn’t flinch or pull away, he held it back, and held it tight. Charlotte noticed those things, and she didn’t take them for granted.

“Yeah, it’s gonna bother me.”

“Then yeah, I’m gonna start teasing you now.” She playfully punched him in the arm. “Hey, that wasn’t a bad punch, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

 

Bucharest at night reminded Charlotte of New York. If New York became a little quieter and a little easier to blend into. The night air brought a chill that didn’t bother her much because Bucky’s body warmth could heat a family.

They didn’t talk much on the walk, as usual. A passing comment here and there, a memory bobbing up to the surface, a joke or two. It felt like the same thing they’d been doing for weeks, but they were closer now. There were no gaps between them. The silence was filled by adoring glances. They were actual lovers now, and it all happened so quickly, too quickly for them to catch.

Charlotte noticed a teenage girl riding by on a bike with flowers attached to the basket. It tickled her. “I used to have a bike just like that.”

“Did you?”

“Mmhmm. It was an ugly bright shade of pink and it had fake sunflowers and a bell on the basket. Then I used to wear dresses all the time with, like, elaborate headbands. I looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care.”

“So you’ve always loved pink this much?” He pointed to a bit of hair spilling out from under the hoodie.

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, years of playing with Barbies and being in Barbie commercials does that to you. And this bike was, like, a hideous washed out spray paint pink, and I hated it. But everyone in my little circle of friends had bikes, and I’d go riding all the time with Giselle and Tony Stark who was, by the way, too old to be hanging out with us but still did anyway. And his bike was fucking incredible. Cherry red, state of the art brakes… What an asshole.”

“You and Tony Stark are friends?”

She giggled. “Since childhood. We drifted apart a little as adults but he’s never failed to stand up for me when I need it. He is an overrated egotist, but he’s my overrated egotist. Like a big brother I seriously never asked for. You knew his dad, right?”

Bucky nodded and sighed. “I knew Howard.”

“Yeah, legend says he was personable once. Not to speak ill of the dead, but geez…” She groaned. “I’m talking way too much.”

He looked at her. “You know I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, I know, but…”

“Hey, hey, hey…” He held her face in his hands. “I don’t want you feeling like you have to be quiet around me, okay? There’s something calming about the sound of your voice.”

She smiled. “We already slept together, you don’t have to flirt with me.”

“That’s not flirting,” he said. “Flirting would be me telling you how good you looked laying on my bed, and how I’d keep you there forever if I could.”

Trying not to look like her panties just hit the floor, Charlotte pursed her lips. “That’s so... dramatic.”

“It is, but did it work?”

“I’ll tell you when we get back.”

* * *

 

Bucky and Charlotte were on each other before his key ever touched his lock. The hoods fell off as fingers gripped hair and he just barely managed to get the door open and creep his hands up her dress at the same time. The kiss was so forceful it almost knocked him back, and once the door was closed he had her laying on her back on his table while he slid down her panties, wasting absolutely no time.

“I made you a promise...”

He kissed everywhere, her thighs, her hips, her stomach. He got down on his knees and pulled her legs over his shoulders, she could feel his breath on her heat and he pressed his lips closer and closer to where she desperately needed them to be.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked. “All of you?”

His tongue swiped against her, slowly. It drew a moan from her and growl from him. Her thighs tried closing around his head, but held them apart as he started working her over with his tongue. He used his fingers to part her lips, allowing his tongue to dive deeper into the sweetness of her. He licked and sucked, watching her with darkened blue eyes. She lifted her hips to grind against his face and he held her down, dragging his tongue up to her clit and closing his lips around it.

She screamed, tangling her fingers in his hair, panting and throwing her head back. His tongue rolled against and around her sensitive spot with such care and attentiveness and hunger. She could feel herself approaching the edge, slowly but surely, while he made sure she felt worshipped and taken care of. The hand holding her hips down turned into a fist as Bucky felt himself getting close too. He stroked himself through his pants and focused on making Charlotte finish first. But his quiet girl was being so vocal, he didn't know how much longer he'd last.

“Bucky… Bu-”

With a scream that got caught in her throat, Charlotte came, and Bucky came crashing down soon after. She caught her breath and he licked the juices dripping down her inner thighs and kissed his way up to her lips.

He leaned over her and caressed her face. “Are you okay? Was that good?”

She nodded. “It was great, thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” The space between her legs was still tingling and throbbing. “Need me to carry you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere.”

He smiled and carried her to his bed, where she curled up on his chest and they fell asleep again.

Not a terrible first date.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANYWAYS back to suffering


	12. A Word of Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanna say solange is a fucking genius. *drops this on your desk and leaves*

“But if the poltergeist was so concerned with land, why not just stop the house from being built?” Bucky held the door open for Charlotte and she walked under his arm, swinging her headphone cord around.

“Buck, you're asking real questions here and Hollywood will never deliver your answers.”

“I thought you made movies.”

She giggled. “I didn't make _Poltergeist_ , Bucky.”

They’d been essentially living in each others’ apartments for a little over two weeks, and life was something resembling peaceful. Bucky would occasionally have a nasty nightmare and sometimes Charlotte would find herself in a crying fit, but they were there for each other. Having someone there made the scary things so much less scary.

Lil Buck, the cat that lived in front of Charlotte’s door, warmed up to Bucky quickly when she realized that he was the one leaving bowls of water out for her. He even got a new collar for her, in pink, a color he could no longer separate from Charlotte’s image.

So now they were living together, eating together, sleeping together, and they even had a cat. It was so domestic and so good, they should’ve known it wouldn’t last forever.

They walked up the stairs to their floor. Charlotte’s eyes were focused on her iPod, but Bucky was staring at the strange woman with the half-shaved head sitting in front of her door, cradling Lil Buck in her arms. She was equally confused by him.

He tapped Charlotte on the shoulder and she still didn't look up. “Yeah?”

“Who's that?”

She looked up for only a second. “Oh, that's Giselle…” She gasped and looked up again. “G?!”

Giselle smiled at her best friend and stood up. “Missed me?”

Charlotte threw her arms around her. Lil Buck meowed to remind her that she was there and she backed up and rubbed the cat's furry head. “How are you here?! How'd you know I was here?!”

Over her shoulder, Giselle was still trying to figure out who Bucky was. “That's actually what I came to talk about.”

Charlotte looked back at Bucky and pulled him forward. “This is... my neighbor.” She wasn't sure how to tell Giselle who he was, or if she should have at all. She trusted Giselle, but ears were everywhere, she knew that.

Giselle reached out to shake his hand, and he shook it with his warmer hand. “Cute neighbor, why the gloves? It's not that cold, cute neighbor.”

“He's allergic to the sun.” Charlotte replied.

“Severely,” Bucky added.

Giselle nodded, only half-believing them. “That's rough, buddy. I'm Giselle, Lottie's friend.”

“I've known G since we were fifteen years old on a short-lived sitcom together called Songs From Detention.”

Giselle grinned. “Charlotte played a cheerleader who only spoke in cheers.”

“My finest work.”

Bucky chuckled, making Charlotte laugh too, as always. Giselle couldn't help but notice the lack of space between them, and how relaxed Charlotte was with this man she only referred to as her ‘neighbor’. If this were a text conversation, she'd be bleeding eye emojis. But knowing that Charlotte might've found someone in Bucharest made her news much harder to share.

“We have to talk, babe,” she told her. She set Lil Buck down on the floor, gently. “Possibly in private.”

Charlotte cleared her throat and turned to Bucky, then back to Giselle. “Well, um-”

“I'll leave you two alone.” Bucky said, politely.

“Thank you, it was nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

Bucky went into his apartment and Giselle crossed her arms. “So were you gonna tell me he's your boyfriend or was it gonna be a surprise?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and unlocked her door. “He's not my… Well, he's sorta my… I just don't know if I'd use the word 'boyfriend’ with him right now…”

“So he's your boyfriend? Noted.”

They walked into the apartment and Giselle took a quick look around at everything. “How's Leia?” Charlotte asked her, leaning on the door.

“Still the cutest dog you've ever seen.” She looked back at her with a smirk. “I finally got her to wear sweaters.”

Charlotte groaned and shook her head. “I never would’ve left had I known the horrors that would befall her.”

“Leia understood why you left, just like I did.” Giselle sat down on Charlotte’s bed and patted the empty space beside her. “Cop a squat, honey bunches.”

Charlotte sat next to her and pulled her knees up to her chest. “How’s the band?”

“Oh it’s great, our drummer announced that he was addicted to cocaine and went into rehab.”

Her eyes widened. “Scott does coke?”

“Scott did coke, now Scott does rehab.”

“Did you find a replacement?”

Giselle nodded. “His name is Rex, he’s really cool. He’s Black so now we have no white people in the band at all. We can kiss those gigs goodbye.”

Charlotte giggled. “You’ll be fine, you kick ass.”

“Remind me to have you listen to some of the new tracks later. I trust your wise ears and strange taste.”

“I appreciate that. So, what’s so urgent you came all the way to Romania to tell me, huh?”

The smile faded from Giselle’s face. There was a moment of silence between them that probably scared Charlotte more than anything she could tell her. “Aaron knows where you are.” Charlotte’s heart dropped, or maybe it stopped. She couldn’t feel it beating in her chest anymore, and suddenly it felt harder to breathe. “I tried to stop him, Lottie, I did everything. I got police involved and lawyers, but he’s smart as fuck. Smarter than me.”

She shook her head. “No one’s smarter than you, G.”

There was a tremendous amount of guilt in Giselle’s voice. She’d been kicking herself for days wondering if things would’ve turned out differently had she not been so confrontational with Aaron, someone she knew was a hothead. “Evidently that’s not true.”

“It’s not your fault, G. You know it isn’t.” Charlotte took a deep breath and tried to rationalize everything. “He knows where I am… This is fine… This can be dealt with…”

“You aren’t gonna stay here and let him get you, are you? The last time I saw that man, he looked like he had a plan and not one you’ll like very much.”

“I have to leave.” She said it as if she were telling herself that. Trying to sternly convince herself that was the right decision. “Where will I go?”

“Already covered. I got two tickets to Amsterdam. The plane leaves in two days. My place over there is totally quiet and nondescript. Completely off the grid. Lots of flowers. You can bring the cat, you can-” Giselle stopped herself when she remembered that Charlotte wasn’t in Bucharest alone anymore. “Oh, and I totally think there were some seats left on the plane! I can get your boyfriend a ticket if he-”

“He can’t come.” Charlotte said, too softly for her friend to hear. She sniffled but didn’t even try fighting the tears spilling down her cheeks. “He has to stay here.”

“Why?”

Charlotte walked over to her wall of pictures and pulled off one that she hadn’t given to Bucky. It was a group shot of the Commandos. A classic clipping from a newspaper. She handed it to Giselle and sat back down. Giselle stared at Bucky’s face in the photo for a minute before it finally clicked and she looked at Charlotte.

“Un-fucking-real…” she whispered. She looked back at it. “Totally un-fucking-real…”

“There are people looking for him, and he doesn’t want to be found, so he needs to stay here and keep laying low.”

“Shit, Charlotte… Fuck, dude.”

“I know.” Giselle wrapped her arms around her. “I don’t know if I can tell him.”

“He has to find out eventually, you can’t just leave him in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll tell him.”

Giselle rubbed her arm. Charlotte was in no place to be telling anyone anything. She was too afraid, she would’ve froze. So, she made a decision.

“No, I’ll tell him.”

Charlotte lifted her head and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t know him but if he’s this important to you, he’s this important to me too.”

They smiled at each other. “You’re my main bitch, you know that?”

Giselle chuckled. “Yeah, I know.” She dug in her bag and pulled out some vodka. Charlotte took it with an appreciative grin.  “They sell vodka in juice boxes here, Lottie. I wouldn’t wanna leave either.”

Charlotte took a sip and handed it back to Giselle who took an even longer sip. “I still kinda wanna know how you found me.”

She laughed. “Remember when I performed at a metal festival in Bucharest a while back and I showed you all the pictures and you said ‘That looks like a great place to hide’? That was a hint. Then Aaron’s dumb ass mentioned Bucharest in passing when he texted me to tell me he found you and by then I was already buying the plane tickets.”

“What a fucking idiot.”

“Honestly, if not for him having the ambition of a Batman villain, he’d probably be one of those scam artist talent managers that tricks teenage girls into thinking they’re the next Britney Spears.”

“Why would he text you to tell you he found me?”

“Because he has to autofellate himself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sticks head through the cracked open door* you okay in there?... it's gonna get worse so you should try to be okay for now. love you to pieces. *leaves again*


	13. Before We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the two people charlotte loves most sit on a rooftop and talk  
> sorry 4 the delay, i'm mid-midterms

Giselle knew many things. She was fluent in Japanese, could play any type of guitar, and she dropped out of high school but if she didn't she could've made a kick ass astronomer. But she wasn't sure how to tell her best friend's secret pouty super soldier boyfriend that she had to whisk her away from him to Amsterdam for her own good. No one ever taught her that skill.

She knocked on his door and got no answer. The other place Charlotte mentioned him possibly being was the roof. It was a cold night, and the city looked gorgeous beyond the rooftops. Bucky sat at the edge with his hands in his pockets, he didn't seem too upset when Giselle showed up.

She took a quick picture of the view with her phone. “Bună seara.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You speak Romanian, too?”

“Nah, I’ve been all over the world on tour. You learn to say ‘Hi’ and ‘I love you’ in a million languages.”

“So what’s Charlotte’s excuse?”

Giselle snorted. “She’s just a language geek, like Papa Gabe was a language geek…” She sat next to him and he shuffled a bit to give her space. “She talks about you like she used to talk about Jude Law,” she said with a grin. “'G, he's so sweet and his eyes are so blue and he gives amazing hugs once he warms up to you'... And she’s right, you’re hot shit.”

“So she tells me.”

“It's the truth!”

She stared out where he did and pulled another vodka juice box from her bag. Bucky looked at it and shook his head. “Can’t get drunk.”

“What the fuck?”

“Super soldier.”

The dismay on Giselle’s face was almost comical. “Why would they do that to you guys?” She put it back. “I brought it up because I have news. She wanted to tell you this herself, but I know her, and giving less than exciting news was never her strong suit.”

“She's leaving with you, right?” he asked. 

Giselle nodded. “Yeah, unfortunately. I hope that doesn't fuck up my chances of befriending you.”

Bucky laughed dryly. “Nope.”

“Good, I’ve had dibs on Maid of Honor since I was sixteen. How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “She always said she’d leave eventually.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think she anticipated that this would be the reason. She probably thought she’d be able to squeeze in at least one more month with you. At least long enough to give you haircut, get you back to looking like your old self...” He looked at her. “She told me pretty much everything about you.”

“Including that we are…”

“Bedfellows? Yup. Don’t worry, I don’t know or want to know the sexy details. She told me enough to know that she really cares for you and you need about as much help as she does.”

He shook his head. “She can’t fix me.”

“She told me you’d say that. If it makes you feel better, she thinks she’s ‘unfixable’, too.” Giselle ran her fingers through her hair and looked up at the stars, trying to keep it all together.  “It should never have gone this far or gotten this bad, _never_ …”

“What do you mean?”

“I told her to get out of showbiz for a while when I found her trying to pry open some sleeping pills at a music festival.”

“She told me she, um, the word she used was 'dissociated’.”

Giselle nodded. “She dissociated at the festival but shit got really scary at the hotel. And I looked around at the flashing lights and her boyfriend and I figured out what was killing her and I bought her a plane ticket to Nigeria and told her it was time for a break. I could’ve lost my best fucking friend that weekend...”

“You're a good friend.”

Giselle grinned and shook her head. “A good friend would’ve known to help her before it reached that point.”

“She doesn’t blame you for anything,” Bucky told her. “You did the right thing.”

“I hope so. She met you, so I did something right.”

Bucky could help but light up. Just thinking about her sent a jolt of electricity to his heart. “Charlotte’s the best goddamn thing to happen to me in decades.”

“Thank you, for loving her,” Giselle told him.

He shook his head. “I can’t love her, I can’t do anything but hurt her.”

Giselle rolled her eyes. “Come on, Bucky, that look is way past infatuation. You _love_ Charlotte. Tell me what it feels like when you see her. Be honest.”

Bucky sat up a little straighter, and a grin tugged on his lips. “It’s like turning on a light in a dark room,” he told her. “She helps me see myself differently.”

“How so?”

“She always tells me how good I am,” he said. “And she uses that word, ‘good’, and I know she doesn’t just mean what she sees but what she thinks is inside of me… And I think I’m horrible, and I don’t know how to live with the things I’ve done, but, shit… Being called ‘good’ by someone so beautiful…”

“That’s love, fam. I can't blame you, it’s hard not to love that chick. But I've never seen anyone love my sister like that.”

“She deserves better.”

“She just deserves to be happy.”

“Has she always been this depressed?”

She nodded. “Mentally, she's always been on edge. She tried everything to distract herself. Every now and then something would happen and the floodgates would open. I’d go days without hearing from her. I actually learned how to pick locks just to get into her house when she had breakdowns ‘cause I knew what she could’ve done to herself, and I was terrified of losing one of the best friends I have. But when I came here and saw the way she talked to you and about you... You lit something up in her, just by being you…”

“And now there’s a chance I might never see her again…”

“Oh please, the whole world thought it would never see Steve Rogers again and there his ass was, in ice, right where we left him.” Giselle leaned closer to him. “Charlotte will be with me, safe and sound, just as kickass as when you left her. When you wanna see her again, you will. I’ll make sure of that.”

“She’s really lucky to have you.”

“Eh, I’m pretty cool.” She stood up, patting Bucky on the shoulder. “I’m going back to my hotel, you have a good night. Oh, and you got a little bit over 24 hours left with her, please don’t shatter my new image of you and spend that time crying. I mean, cry _a little_ , but try to smile, too.”

Bucky chuckled. “Will do.”

"Oh, and Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell her that you love her."

* * *

 

Bucky finally went inside after a while. Charlotte must’ve heard him reach his door, because hers cracked open. He looked back at her. Her eyes were red from crying, and her chest was still heaving with fresh sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he told her. She squeezed her eyes shut but that only pushed out more tears. He walked over to her and kissed her, trying to commit the warmth of her lips to memory. When he pulled away he leaned down and looked into her eyes. “Don’t cry, dollface.”

“I don’t wanna leave you here alone,” she sobbed. “I don’t know what’ll happen to you.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I feel like shit, because you always protect me and I can’t protect you from anything. I feel so fucking useless and now I’m leaving you alone!”

He held her face. “Is that you or the vodka talking?”

“... Both.”

“I don’t want you protecting me, Charlotte,” he said. “I don’t want anyone protecting me. Whatever happens to me is going to happen. The things I've done can't be undone, but you're innocent, and you don't deserve to stand in the crossfires because of me. I'm used to being alone, and I'll miss the hell outta you, but I want you to be safe more than I want you here."

She kissed him and rubbed her nose against his. “We are entirely too cutesy for two people on the run.”

He laughed. “That's entirely your fault.”

She bit her lip. “It’s gonna be so weird sleeping in a real bed, and without you. Who else am I gonna get breakfast with?”

He shrugged. "Giselle seems pretty nice."

Charlotte smiled and bounced excitedly on her heels. "I knew you'd like each other! I could get breakfast with Giselle but she sleeps in way later than I do."

His expression fell a little and he sighed. “Well, who knows? Next time I see you, you might be married with a baby, eating breakfast with them every morning.”

In truth, that was what he wanted. He wanted to find out that Charlotte found something better, something healthier. He wanted to see her glowing, in a new life with someone who could support her recovery. He knew that life couldn’t be with him. He’d be heartbroken, but he’d understand.

She didn’t feel the same way.

“You’re a tough act to follow, Bucky." She kissed him on the cheek. "But let's not talk about that tonight, okay?"

"How can we not?"

She perked up an eyebrow. "Are you too sad to give me a few more hickeys?"

"Again, you or the vodka talking?"

She took his hands and started pulling him inside her apartment. "All me."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pre-apology for the next chapter: sorry?


	14. Sweet and Sour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't gonna hurt you  
> also like if you wanna listen to songs that were made for bucky and charlotte: "you saved me" by gary clark jr is very charlotte + "the fragile" by NIN is very bucky

The day Charlotte left started off with rain, and she always thought that meant good luck but that was just because she had no clue what that day in particular would bring. She’d spent the whole day before that in bed with Bucky, eating, joking, and listening to music. The next morning, her and Giselle packed and had a quiet cup of coffee. Bucky joined them eventually, but he couldn't look at the bags on the ground or the plane tickets on the counter. His talk with Giselle made it feel a little better, but not by much. He still didn’t want to see his girl go. They tried pretending to fully enjoy themselves but it really did feel like suddenly being torn apart after only seeing and knowing each other for so long. Bucky wouldn't stop staring at Charlotte, as if it were the last time he'd see her, ever.

“When I get back to the States, I'm gonna go straight to Dunkin Donuts.”

“Why Dunkin Donuts?” Giselle asked.

“To get a big box of munchkins! Then we'll watch Coming to America and laugh our asses off.”

“I'm down. We should sleep in my living room like we used to do all the time.” Giselle smiled. “Make a blanket fort, put on our PJs.”

“Order a pizza, I'll braid your hair.”

“Perfect!”

Amidst the giggles that followed, Charlotte noticed the downcast expression on Bucky's face, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before turning to Giselle.

“Um, G, you think we'll need snacks for the trip?”

She looked between Bucky and Charlotte and pieced it together that they needed a minute. “Way ahead of you.” She grabbed her coat and ran for the door. “I'll be back. Take your time.”

Giselle left and Charlotte waited for Bucky to say what was on his mind, and of course she was met with sad silence. She looked down.

“What’s going on behind those baby blues?” she asked with a smile that felt more forced than anything. “I thought you were okay with me leaving.” He shrugged and kept his eyes down. “You’re not. I know you aren’t, I’m not either but… I have to go.”

He opened his mouth to say something and closed it again. Charlotte sighed and sat on his lap. Out of newly-formed habit, he kissed her cheeks and tried grinning but failed miserably.

She held his chin up so he’d face her. “Talk to me, Bucky. What’s going on?”

“I love you, Charlotte,” he told her, laughing a little at himself as he said it.

Charlotte was surprised, and she wasn’t sure why. “Really?”

He nodded. “You don't have to say it back, it would just make all of this hurt more, but I didn't wanna hide it from you.”

She ran her fingers across his stubbly jaw and smiled down at him. “Bucky, I-”

There was a knock on the door, not hard but not soft. It didn't sound like Giselle, but it didn't sound like the police. Bucky looked at it and looked back at her. He shifted so that she was further away from the door.

“Is that him?” he asked her.

“I don’t know.” They knocked again, this time harder. She couldn’t avoid her heart skipping and the fear that filled her chest, but she fought against it. She told herself she wasn’t going to be afraid of him anymore, and she meant it. “Yeah, it’s him.”

“You want me to get the door?”

“No, I’ll get it, just stay out of the way… He’s worse when he’s jealous.” She tucked his hair behind his ear. “Promise me you won’t touch him until I say so.”

He swallowed. “If he touches you, I can’t promise that.”

“Even if he does, just wait for me, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

She walked to the door, feeling a bit more confident because Bucky was with her and he taught her how to fight. She straightened her posture and opened the door. Aaron smirked at her. “Well, _thank God_ you’re alive.” He walked towards her with his arms open, half-expecting her to run into them. He almost had to laugh at himself when she didn’t. “I was hoping this would be easy.”

“Nothing ever is with you,” she replied. He walked closer to her and she kept her distance. “Why are you here?”

“What am I- I’m taking you home, dumbass!”

“I don’t go anywhere with men who call me a ‘dumbass’.”

“You’re a beautiful dumbass.”

“Fuck you.”

He rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake can you stop acting like a kid for one goddamn second. Just one? For me?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you ever again,” she told him. “You made everything about me worse. You turned my life into something ugly, something fake.”

“You’re a celebrity, fake is the lifestyle.”

She shook her head. “Not mine.”

Aaron’s fists clenched at his sides. His jaw jutted forward and he took a deep breath. “When I found out where you were, I told myself I wasn’t going to hit you, Lottie...” He took a step forward and she stepped back, almost falling backwards onto her loveseat. “I want to show you that I love you and care about you but you won’t grow up! You won’t! And, yeah, that makes me angry! That makes me wanna fucking kill you sometimes! But I still love you. I still know what’s best for you.”

He walked forward again and she pushed him backwards. He was surprised by the force of the push, and he wasn’t used to her fighting back. “No.”

“Lottie-”

He moved closer again and she pushed him back again, spitting in his direction. “No!”

Aaron ran his fingers through his hair and stared at her. She recognized the look on his face all too well. It was so distant, so cold, so completely terrifying. “Lottie, all you have to FUCKING DO IS COME HOME WITH ME TONIGHT! THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO DO.” She shook her head. He slapped her hard across the face. “Wrong answer.”

She was shaking, holding her cheek in shock. “You never hit me on the face before...”

He grabbed her by her hair, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Let’s call that pent-up aggression. All you had to do was come h-”

She punched him hard in the stomach, the hardest she’d ever hit anyone. He doubled over and let her go. She used the chance to move out of the way, closer to the door and to Bucky.

Aaron steadied himself and huffed. “Where the hell’d you learn to punch like that?”

He stood upright and, finally, noticed that Bucky was standing there behind Charlotte, watching him like a hawk. If Bucky were holding a rifle, Aaron’s face would be right at the center of the scope.

“I should’ve known you’d found a fuck buddy over here,” he said. “You never could keep those legs closed…”

“Oh fuck you, I never cheated on you, not even when I wanted to. Your beef isn’t with him, this is between me and you.”

“My beef isn’t with him but he’s looking at me like an angry cat,” he said. “He can’t do anything, alright, Lottie? At the end of the day, you’re coming with me. It doesn’t matter what your boyfriend says. You were mine before you were his.”

Charlotte scoffed. “I was never yours, Aaron.” He walked closer to her. “James, don’t move.”

Easier said than done, Bucky was ready to tear Aaron a new one. The fear on Charlotte’s face was enough for him to kill him.

“ _James_ , how cute.”

Her back hit the door and he gripped her throat. She looked over at Bucky, who already started making his way over there. “Don’t move. Don’t move.”

“You heard her, James.”

“I’m saving your fucking life,” she said. “Let me go and no one gets hurt. Last chance.”

“You have no fucking right to be offering _me_ a last chance, bitch.” He spat. “Come home with me or else, last chance.”

“Or else what?”

His grip tightened. “Or else I’ll give you a bunch of pretty bruises to match the scandal waiting for you back home.”

She could still breathe, and she could still talk. She tried wriggling out of his grip, pulling and scratching at his hands. “Bucky, I can see you, _wait!_ ” Bucky had made it close enough to reach out and pull Aaron off of her, and he only took a small step back. “What scandal, Aaron?”

He smiled at Bucky. “Glad you asked. You see, I was sitting at my desk wondering what I could possibly use as leverage against you in case you didn’t come home. Then I remembered that your early ‘coping mechanisms’ weren’t so pretty.”

“What?”

“Your party girl phase, the one I worked tirelessly to bury. All the drugs you did when you were freshly legal, how fucking horny you got when you were high, I remember that. Why don’t you?”

“Aaron, you didn’t…”

“Oh, so you do remember?”

“That night was a mistake, I got clean, I’ve never looked back.”

“I mean, sure, I know that. But the public doesn’t know that. What will they say when they see all the pictures of you, tripping on acid, rolling around on my sheets naked? I don’t think they’ll say good things. I mean, it would be different if you were a white guy, or even a white girl, but you’re a Black girl, and there’s nothing the tabloids love to destroy more than a misbehaving Black girl.”

Tears started rolling down Charlotte’s face. “You _didn’t_.”

“Four major magazines got some interesting pictures from an anonymous source two nights ago,” he said. “Do you wanna come home with me now?”

“I’d rather go home with the devil than go home with you,” she snarled. “You two aren’t that different.”

Aaron grinned. “Still fighting it, huh? Quite the thick skin you’ve grown out here. Let’s see if it still bruises easily.”

He wound up one of his fists to punch Charlotte, when Bucky hooked his metal arm around Aaron’s neck and dragged him off of her, kicking and screaming. He threw him on the floor, and he looked at Charlotte desperately.

“Lottie, Lottie, tell your guard dog to stand down!”

But Charlotte didn’t say anything, and Bucky started punching him with the flesh and blood hand. He tried swinging back, but that was predictably useless, as Bucky caught his fist and twisted it until he heard something snap and Aaron wailed.

“She told you she was saving your life,” Bucky said. “You didn’t listen.”

Charlotte let Bucky get a few more blows in before stepping in. “Bucky, hold on!” He looked back at her. “You don’t kill anymore, don’t let this be an exception.”

“But he hurt you.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt, too.”

Bucky turned back to Aaron, who by now was already bloody and bruised almost beyond recognition, and he let him go. He stood back and pulled Charlotte into his arms. He couldn’t hurt anyone with her on his arm.

“Take it back, Aaron.” she told him. “You have to, and you can. You've worked miracles for me before.”

Aaron spat out a tooth and tried his best to stand up straight. “I don’t have to do anything.”

“Be a decent person.”

“To the girl that just let some guy beat the shit out of me? No!” He pressed his fingers to his nose. “I’m gonna drag this out, see how bad it gets. Not because he hit me, but because I really fucking hate you.” He looked at Bucky. “I’m not even gonna press charges against you. Like she said, my beef isn’t with you, it’s with her.”

He walked to the door, when Giselle burst in. “Charlotte, what the fuck is with the fucking maga-” She saw Aaron and jumped. “Fuck, what happened to you? Are you finally transforming into the demon I always knew you were?”

“Show her the magazine covers, Giselle. Let her know what she’s going home to.”

Reluctantly, Giselle handed the magazines to Charlotte. She looked at all of them, with her younger self plastered on the covers. She was laying on her back with her legs spread, smiling at the camera, out of her mind. She didn’t remember that, what she remembered was waking up the next morning, confused. And the satisfied grin on Aaron’s face. But the headlines made it seem like she’d done everything herself. He wasn’t a bastard, she was just a mess.

“Good luck pulling that from public memory,” he said. “I doubt you’ll be able to get a single entertainment channel to stop talking about it for months. No one’s gonna want to work with you, no one’s gonna want to shoot you, no one’s gonna want to interview you about anything else. This is your life now, Charlotte. I hope you’re happy.”

With that, Aaron left, slamming the door behind him. Charlotte was frozen, gripping the magazines but not quite looking at them anymore, just looking through them. Giselle and Bucky exchanged looks and Bucky turned her around to face him.

“Charlotte? Charlotte, come back to me.” She looked up at him. “He’s gone, baby girl.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Giselle tried thinking of something smart to say, something comforting. “Girls have had their nudes leaked before, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Bucky nodded. “You hear that? It can be fixed.”

“It's not that easy,” she told him. “He was right, this will be my life for months. A firestorm of cameras and looking at my own face and my own naked body on TMZ for months. Even after that, the internet will never forget. It’s never ending. It’s literally never ending."

Giselle ran her fingers through her hair. “Fuck... Charlotte, I’m so sorry, but we have to go right now. There are pictures in these magazines of you in Bucharest and I’ve noticed an increase in sleaze with cameras standing on the streets waiting to see you.”

Charlotte looked up at Bucky. “You’ll be fine,” he told her.

“I’d be better if you were coming with me,” she said. "I feel like I'm being touched by a thousand hands and you are the only thing that could make me feel safe anymore."

As much as it broke him to see her like this, he shook his head. “It’ll just be more scandal, I can’t do that to you.”

She reached up to Bucky's face, lifting herself up to kiss him. He pulled her closer, knowing this wasn't a goodbye kiss, despite the fact that it sure as hell felt like one. As soon as she left, all bets were off. He could be dead within months, or in prison somewhere she couldn't possibly get to, and no torture in the world hurt him quite as much as the thought of never seeing Charlotte again.

He pulled away and took a decisive breath. "I want you to have something..."

He ran into his apartment and then ran back, holding his dog tags in his fist. Charlotte’s jaw hit the floor when she saw it. “How’d you get that? Where’d you find it?”

“Croatia. Hydra was never good at getting rid of souvenirs. It’s all yours.”

“I couldn’t, what if you need it? What if you lose your memory-”

“What I _need_ is for you to have it.”

He put it around her neck and she held the chain between her fingers. “Didn’t this used to be a promise? Something you’d give a girl to promise her you’d come back alive?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

“Oh, Bucky…”

“I love you, Charlotte.”

With certainty, she replied, “I love you, too.”

He genuinely smiled and kissed her on the forehead one last time. Giselle wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled Charlotte’s arm. “You’ll see her again, Bucky. I’ll make sure you do.”

With that, they rushed out with bags on their backs and hoods over their heads. Leaving Bucky alone again, but not for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... i must warn you they won't see each other again for a bit


	15. Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're gonna meet two very important characters in this chapter: good ol' mom and dad

Charlotte had forgotten how much the paparazzi reminded her of a swarm of wasp, each one reaching in as close to her as they could without touching her. She’d forgotten how the invasive questions felt like buzzing in her ears, and sometimes when these “reporters” got bold they _would_ try to touch her and end up scratching or pinching her. Now she was returning to that swarm, and it was twice the size it used to be, and convening at JFK airport.

She didn’t wear sunglasses, she didn’t want to. She wanted everyone to see her bare face, and every emotion she was feeling.

Giselle linked arms with her and they pushed their way through the swarm as quickly as possible. Giselle was a rather slender girl but she could push a man twice her size when she needed to, without problem. Her driver met them in the middle, swiftly ushering them outside to the car while a wall of flashing lights crowded around them.

“Jesus Christ…” G whispered.

Charlotte sighed and rubbed Bucky’s dog tag across her lips. “Back in black...” Giselle took her free hand and squeezed it.

“Where to?” asked the driver.

“My apartment, don't stop till you get there.”

“Yes, Miss. Umehara.”

Charlotte stared out the window at New York. The night before they'd gotten on the plane, she had a nightmare of drifting off to sea alone. She couldn't tell if she was terrified or blissful, maybe some miraculous combination if the two. She swore she could hear Bucky out there somewhere, but she couldn't tell for sure, not in that dream. It just confirmed how terrified she was of going back into this strange world of celebrity alone.

“I've been living on the Truman Show my whole life…” Charlotte said. “Every fucking moment since my first tv gig has been calculated to make sure I was perfect, so of course it would all dissolve the moment I realize that I'm not.”

Giselle turned towards her. “And you remember how The Truman Show ended, right? With Truman freeing himself and forging his own path. That's you now, Lottie.”

She stared out the window, grinning for the cameras. “I can't stop thinking about Bucky holding me after he beat the shit out of Aaron…”

G giggled. “I'm still a little jazzed about him beating the fucker's face in, personally. That's one less job for me.”

“I know but… His heart rate slowed down when he held me… his breathing calmed… it was like he was protecting me but also using me as comfort…” Charlotte felt herself choking up. “And I left him.”

Hearing her start to sniffle, Giselle quickly handed her a tissue and rubbed her arm. “He's fine, Charlotte.”

“I know he'll live, but you didn't see him have a nightmare, G.”

“What was it like?”

“It was like he was trapped in a memory and couldn't get out,” she replied. “And Nat told me all about Hydra and it's little toys and what they did to him, it’s shit you don’t just forget… and I _left_ him, so now he has to fight that shit by himself until God knows when. He loves me and _needs_ me and I left him.”

“He told you to leave, Charlotte.”

“He wanted to protect me, always everyone but himself… but I want to protect him. I’ll protect his name until I see him again and then I’ll protect him when I do.” She wiped her eyes. “I owe him that much.”

* * *

 

They drove to Giselle's apartment in Manhattan, where Charlotte settled in quickly, she unpacked everything in the guest room of Giselle's lavish pad. The whole place was very G, with dark colors, lots of vinyl records and guitars, and a bit of a cluttered, lived-in feel to it. The guest room was no different, just empty, and Charlotte did appreciate the bottle of red wine on the pillow.

Giselle leaned on the doorway while Charlotte unpacked. “Get yourself settled, get a little wine in you, call your mom.”

Charlotte perked up an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean, you’re not my mother?”

She laughed. “You watch it, you’re the one crashing in my place, bud.”

“Thank you.”

Giselle drummed her hands on the door nonchalantly. “Eh, I’ve been wanting to have a sleepover for months, this is just an easy way to do it. Don’t forget to call your mom before it gets late.”

Giselle left the room and Charlotte dialed for her mother while she taped up some pictures to the wall. The phone barely rung once before she got an answer.

“Charlotte, thank God, how are you, baby?” her mother asked, clearly relieved. “Were you hurt? Did you hurt yourself?”

Charlotte sighed. “I was going to in Bucharest…”

There was a pause where Charlotte’s mom was clearly thinking of something to say. “Oh my God, Charlotte…”

“But I didn’t, mom! I’m fine… Well, fine as I can be. I'll fill you in with the details at your house. When are you free?”

“Tonight. Come tonight. I wanna hear everything.”

“Oh boy, mom, please relax.”

Her mother huffed. “After months of not seeing or hearing from my own daughter, I will _not_ relax.”

Charlotte sighed. “I'll come tonight at seven. Is daddy working?”

“He's in the office talking to the press on the phone.” Charlotte heard something break and her dad's passionate voice. “It's been a long few days, we miss you.”

“Is that Charlie?!” she heard her dad shout. He took the phone and made kissing noises. “I’ve been so worried. Don't worry, we have this situation handled.”

She nodded. When the scandal was this fresh, there was no way to handle it. It would be a circus until the initial noise died down. “Handled, handled, handled… um, maybe I should come tomorrow. You seem busy.”

Her mom took the phone back. “No, come today, we'll have cocoa ready. I want to hear about everything.”

“Some things are easier to explain than others, mom.”

“I don’t need you to explain yourself, I don’t care. I just wanna know that you’re better. We’ll see you when you get here, okay? We love you!”

The warmth of her parents radiated through the phone. “I love you, too.”

* * *

 

Charlotte's parents lived in a beautifully restored house just fifteen minutes away. Her mother was a retired lawyer, whose main talent was looking eternally thirty-five, and her father was a lawyer too before he decided to follow his daughter into the film industry as a special effects artist. They would've lived well without Charlotte's help, but she took care of them anyway.

Charlotte was a little nervous to see her mom again. She was a Howard-bred badass. She carried herself with poise, through and through. Even before the breakdown she’d always been an encouragement to her daughter, But she felt she didn't do enough for her illness. In fact, she felt responsible because she didn’t spot it, or Aaron’s abuse, sooner. Charlotte didn't want her feeling guilty like that, it made her feel guilty.

Charlotte walked up to the door quietly and rang the bell. She’d worn a red wig and hoodie to conceal her identity. It’d only just dawned on her that she had to don a disguise just to see her parents.

Her mom answered the door and release a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Charlotte grinned. “Hi mom,” she said. “I'm sorry.”

Her mom pulled her close and they just cried. They cried for what seemed like minutes until Charlotte's mother pulled away and took a good, long look at her.

“Sorry for what? Having depression?”

Charlotte shook her head. “For making you worry.”

She laughed. “I've been worried about you since your conception, baby girl.”

“She here?!” she heard her dad say down the hall.

“Yeah, Laurence.”

He rushed to the door and picked her up. “My girl! I missed you.” He squeezed her and set her down. “You’re a little heavier, good for you! Are you wearing a wig?”

She nodded. “Paparazzi are looking for my pink hair. I was promised cocoa?”

Her mom smiled. “That you were, baby, that you were.”

They led her inside. The interior of the house was unchanged, except hang a few more pictures. There was one in particular that caught Charlotte's eye: A picture of her and Steve laughing together at Thanksgiving the year before. Surprisingly, it was the first time she’d thought about Steve since being in Bucharest, and she only just realized that she needed to talk to him immediately. She'd been with the man he was looking for weeks. He'd start asking questions, because she was his friend, too. And she knew she'd give him the truth, even if Bucky would be upset later.

Her mom had her sit on the couch, they were watching one of her older movies, something Charlotte wouldn't do even if someone paid her.

“Please no…” she said. Her father changed to The Walking Dead and turned the volume down. “That's a little better.”

Her mom carried the cocoa from the kitchen and they sat opposite of her. “Tell us about your brain break. What did you do? How are you?”

Charlotte took off her wig and scratched the scalp between her braids. “It was really… _freeing_. I've never just been in the background, enjoying my own time.”

“Good.”

“But I don't know if I feel better. I feel stronger, but not _better_. I know I have to get serious help and I can't just live my life scared of my own brain.”

Her dad nodded. “We'll help you with that, and with this Aaron mess.”

“Oh my God, if I never see him again, I'll be happy.”

“Well, technically, what he did is illegal, it was revenge porn, so… you might have the courts on your side.”

Charlotte nodded and cleared her throat. “There's something else I really should tell you. It’s not, like, dire but… I feel like I shouldn’t hide it from you.”

Their faces dropped. “Did something happen?”

She bit her lip and took a long sip of the cocoa. “So I was in Bucharest, minding my business…”

“Oh god…”

“And I met a guy….” Her dad grinned and her mom gasped. “I'm not done, stay in your seats…”

“What? Was he a drug dealer?” her mother asked.

“No! Um… mom, remember when granddad told you all those war stories when you were little, with the Commandos?”

“Of course.”

“You know how Steve's been looking for Bucky Barnes?” She pulled her dog tags from the inside of her jacket.

Charlotte could practically see the wheels turning in her mom’s head. “... _No_.”

“Yeah…”

“You found Bucky Barnes?!”

“Actually, mom, I fell in love with Bucky Barnes.”

Her parents looked on, stunned by the news. She rubbed the tags with her thumb and gripped them tight.

“You fell in love with him?” her mom asked. There was a ghost of a smile on her face, but she wanted more details. “How'd that happen?”

Charlotte smiled. “He’s all I really saw and talked to for weeks. It was just me and him, mostly me talking to him,  honestly I probably annoyed the hell out of him… But then when we didn’t talk, we were trying so hard to read each other. I felt such a connection to him, and I guess he felt something for me. Something happened along the way and we fell in love.”

“Wow…” her mom said, finally letting that smile show itself. “I wish your grandfather could’ve seen you fall in love with good ole Bucky Barnes!”

Charlotte giggled, relieved at her parents’ reaction. “Oh, he’s probably rollin’ in his grave. ‘James Barnes, _really_?!’.”

“At least it wasn’t Dum-Dum.” her dad joked.

Her mother squealed. “He would’ve died sooner! But he’s probably happy for you, honey. I’m sure he’s up in heaven rooting for his princess.” She raised an eyebrow. “Where’s Bucky now?”

“Still in Bucharest, far as I know… If grandpa’s watching me, I hope he’s watching him too.”

Her mother nodded. “He is. Just for you.”

“Speaking of Commandos… Steve came by this morning to see if you had come home yet.”

Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair. “Did he say anything?”

“He told me to tell you to meet with him and Sam soon, also that he missed you.”

Well, she had been waiting for an opportunity to tell him, she guessed now was as good a time as any. “I scheduled an interview for tomorrow so I’ll meet with him after that,” she said. “I have so much to tell him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost done, guys!!


	16. Selfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't watched jessica jones in months so forgive me if my trish is ooc but i love ha!

The thing people most people don’t know about child stars is that the odds of them all having met at some point is extremely likely. Growing up in show business is something of a unique, isolating experience. Even if they leave Hollywood behind, it's still hard to find people with shared experience outside of the sphere of show business.

They didn’t all become friends, but sometimes they did, and those were valuable connections.

As soon as Trish heard that Charlotte had touched down in the States, she tried calling her. Initially it wasn’t to set up an interview, but it ended that way. There was no one Charlotte trusted more to be her first interview than Trish.

"Welcome to Trish Talk, we have a very special guest today, an old friend of mine. I'd introduce her, but I think she's earned the right to introduce herself."

Charlotte nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Hi, Trish Talk listeners, I'm Charlotte Jones."

"I'm so beyond happy to see you."

"You, too. You know I've been a fan of the show forever, and we've always wanted to do this but never got the chance. I wish we could've done it when life was a little more simple."

Trish sighed. “Well, that’s why we’re here, right? To at least try to clear the air?”

“To cushion the fall.” She chuckled dryly. “Where do you wanna start, sweets?”

“I wanna start at the beginning,” Trish said. “Because I’ve known you for a while, but the world doesn’t know you outside of the covers of magazines that don’t matter.”

“Right.”

“For those of you who don’t know, Charlotte Jones was born in Harlem. Before temporarily leaving the industry, she lived in Brooklyn. She grew up doing films, sitcoms, and fashion spreads. She recently left Hollywood and the US behind for her mental health, and was unfortunately forced to return when the press found her in Bucharest, Romania. Do I have that right?"

"Yup, yup, yup."

"I don't know about everyone else, but I'm very excited to live in a world where women in the public eye can publicly say they aren't okay and choose to leave the public eye if they want. I think that sends a great message to little girls."

"The best lessons are the ones we learn accidentally. So if I taught anyone something, they should know that I'm still learning. It's a process, but it's one that I'm happy to have started on my own."

"Mental health is sort of taboo in show business, especially for child stars. We've seen how Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Amanda Bynes..."

"Shia LaBeouf, Macaulay Culkin..."

"The list goes on, and it usually plays on the same way. The pressure becomes too much, and they rebel, and the media pounces."

"And I didn't want to be that. I didn't want to suffer with cameras in my face, so I left."

"That's brave."

"No, I know brave people, and bravery's in my DNA, but that choice wasn't bravery as much as it was survival. It was like... Fight or flight."

"Speaking of DNA, your grandfather, Gabe Jones, served in the Howling Commandos Was that a shadow you had to live in?”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, I loved being Gabe Jones’ granddaughter. At least until adulthood, it was perfect. They were coattails, but they weren’t show business coattails, y’know? So there was nothing for me to have to measure up to in that regard.”

“And in other regards?”

“I mean, he was the greatest man I’ve ever known, so I always wanted to be like him, but there was never any _pressure_ to do that.”

Trish cleared her throat. “I’m just asking because I know that you’ve had struggles with self-image and depression.”

“Yeah, I get it. That was the industry. I know to you, Trish, this is like preaching to the choir, but if you’re not in Hollywood you really have no idea what the environment is like. You’re surrounded by drugs, alcohol, eating disorders… And you’re encouraged to participate, but only in private, y’know? But even when you're doing it in private, everyone knows, so it's hard to trust anyone with secrets. The concept of a private life baffles me, it doesn’t exist in Hollywood, it’s a delusion. Everyone believes their lives are private but I told my friend earlier that I felt like I was on the Truman Show. Eyes were everywhere and I wanted to please everyone.”

“That’s why I left for good, but you seem intent on returning to the business. Why?.”

“You were smart, but I’m stupidly in love with acting. I love creating in Hollywood, even if I hate Hollywood.”

“I can tell, you really tried to become something of a Jack of all Trades. You act, dance, sing, write…”

Charlotte continued the tally on her fingers. “I play the piano, I want to direct, I can actually bake really well!” She giggled. “Yeah, I wanted to do everything, I still do, and I was really proud when I could, and really destructive when I couldn’t.”

“When you can’t build, you destroy.”

“Exactly.”

“So are you building or rebuilding now?”

“A bit of both, really. I am picking up the fragments of what I left behind, but I want to see what else I can do. Everything still hurts, it really does. It hurts like hell. Depression is something I’ll have to fight for the rest of my life, but I know now that I can live with the sadness. I just have to remind myself that I am surrounded by love, and that’s enough to live for. Love’s a great foundation for building a new life.”

"That it is." Trish sighed. “I know that, when we open the line for questions, this will eventually come up. So, I think it’s best we get it out of the way now. Recently some private photos of you were leaked to the press by an anonymous source. We’ve seen this a lot lately, where aggressive men leak the nudes of famous women, and often they’re expected to brush it off and be strong. But you seem to be quite somber about it, you’re intentionally letting people see you cry. I admire the vulnerability, I can’t say I’d be able to do the same thing. “

“I have to be vulnerable. Pretending to be okay is what fucked me up in the first place. The day I found out about the nudes, I was still in Romania staying with a friend. Aaron, my ex-boyfriend, decided it would be classy to tell me what he’d done face to face. It did get violent and it did get tense, but the friend I was with… He could get me through anything…” She grinned. “He told me I’d be fine and that was the first time I’d actually believed it when someone told me that.”

Trish raised an eyebrow. “This friend was special?”

“He was- He _is_ special, very special to me. I hope one day I’ll be able to tell everyone who he is but his privacy is important at the moment.”

She smiled. “Well, we can’t wait to meet him, when he’s ready.”

* * *

Steve held the dog tags in shaking hands, his brows were knit together in disbelief. For almost two years he’d been searching for Bucky, and Charlotte Jones, someone he loved like a little sister, found him in a matter of months, just by accident.

Charlotte leaned on Sam’s shoulder while he inspected the tags, too. She told them the entire story, from the first meeting to the last. She didn’t share every detail, but she kept everything important in, and Steve listened silently. He didn’t react, he just listened.

“He’s fine, Steve,” she told him in the end. “He’s alive and taking care of himself in Bucharest.”

Sam looked at her. “Charlotte, I knew you were somethin’ else but… We really owe you for this.”

She shook her head. She just wanted Steve to say something, anything. “He knows who you are, he asked about you, Steve. He knew about Gabe, that’s why he knew my face. He might not know what to do with the memories, but they’re coming back, that’s something, isn’t it? That means he can recover.”

"What was the last thing he told you before you left?" Steve asked.

"That he loved me."

He handed the tags back to her. “You know you're in it now, don't you?”

She nodded, and put them back around her neck. She hadn’t taken them off since she left Romania, they only left her body when she showered. "I don't care what I'm in."

"This is about so much more than finding Bucky."

“Whatever you need. I’ll do it.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t say that. Gabe would want me keeping you outta harm’s way. If I let you start helping us, you’ll have Hydra after you, you’ll have the government after you... If you got hurt because of me... Too many people already have.”

Charlotte groaned. “Your first mistake was assuming I’m doing any of this for you. Steve, I love you, but this is as selfish as it is selfless,” she told him. “Loving Bucky is selfish and crazy and dangerous, but it’s for me, and I know you're in the same headspace.” She reached over and took Steve’s hand. “So whatever you need, I’ll do it, Steve, no matter how crazy. That’s what love does to you.”

“She’s serious, Steve,” Sam said.

Steve was beginning to crack, and his shoulders loosened up a bit. “What could you do?”

“I have money, I’m in the public eye, and I have connections to governments.”

“You said Bucky taught you to defend yourself?”

She nodded. “Yeah, yeah but I should learn more.”

“You should, and I’ll teach you.”

Charlotte smiled. “Are you serious, Steve?” Sam moved out the way for her to hug Steve, but she squeezed him in between. “Thank you, both of you.”

“You have to listen to me, though.” Steve said, pulling away. “And you might get hurt.”

“There’s always a chance I’ll get hurt no matter what I do. It's better I get hurt fighting for someone else than by me hurting myself." She smirked. "The listening to you part might be kinda hard, though.”

Steve chuckled. “Sometimes you make it extremely easy to tell that you grew up with Tony.”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment for now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one left...  
> hope y'all are ready to see how badass charlotte's gonna be in part 2


	17. Telephone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End of Part One  
> i'm sorry  
> thanks for reading!!

“Rose gold or white gold?”

“Who paints their bedroom white gold?”

“People with money, Charlotte.” Giselle took Charlotte’s lifted brow to be a vote for rose gold. “I knew it, I already bought the paint.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and continued laying down the tarp. “I love how you decided to wait until the day we paint to ask me what color I wanted the walls to be.”

“Rockstars are never on time.”

Charlotte swatted her with a roller brush. “This isn’t the goddamn VMAs, you goof.”

“I’m far too sober and wearing far too little glitter for it to be the VMAs.” Giselle hooked up her phone to tiny speakers in the center of the room. “Second decision, Regina Spektor or Laura Mvula?”

“Both.”

“I knew you’d choose both! You’re so predictable! I mean, aside from the whole of what happened in Romania, that I couldn’t see coming by a mile.”

“Just turn on the music for God’s sake.”

Giselle turned on the music and they poured the paint into a tub and rolled the brushes in. Charlotte moving in with Giselle semi-permanently was inevitable in retrospect. It probably wasn’t a good idea for her to be living alone, and she had nowhere else she really wanted to be. But that didn’t make the process less fun.

“Question, G, if you could make out with one singer who isn’t Beyonce, which would you choose?”

“Solange.”

“Besides the Knowles sisters.”

She shrugged and rolled the first coat of pink paint onto the walls. “The singer from Bats For Lashes.”

“How did I know that?”

“Because I talk about Bats For Lashes constantly, Charlotte, it’s not rocket science.” She cleared her throat. “ _Oh my darlin’ I can’t stand to sleep alone_.”

Charlotte giggled. “You’re too raspy.”

“Yeah, I should stick to Johnny Cash… Wait, _no_ , you’re supposed to support me unconditionally, that’s what best friends do, the fuck?”

“You want me to lie to you?”

“Obviously.”

"You sound great."

"Thanks." Giselle grinned. “You’re awfully smiley lately.”

“Yeah…” She bit her lip.

“You haven’t been smiley in months, like, since we got back from Bucharest. What are you up to? What are you planning?”

“I’m not up to anything, I’ve just been… thinking.”

“Bout what?”

“You know that feeling in your chest when you know something good’s about to happen?” Giselle nodded. “I’ve had that for days and I don’t know what that thing’s gonna be or when it’s gonna show up but I know it’s about Bucky, G, it has to be.”

“Charlotte please don’t start romanticizing Bucky while you two are away from each other,” Giselle said. “I don’t want you to be all heartbroken if he’s not the exact person you thought he was when you were spending almost every day together.”

Charlotte sighed. “You’re right…”

“With that being said, that’s so cute. I support you two.”

Charlotte sucked her teeth and rubbed some paint on the front of Giselle’s overalls. “Don’t try to make me feel good about it now... I’ll take whatever Bucky comes home to me and if it ends up not working out, I’ll take him as a friend.” Her phone buzzed, Steve was calling. “Do you mind taking over my half of the wall?”

Giselle rolled her eyes. “Rich people…”

Charlotte answered the phone and walked out of the room, but she never came back in. When Giselle went out to check on her, she was crying on the floor. She didn’t tell her anything except, “It’s Peggy.”

* * *

 

The church was cold that day. The air was filled with a stillness that made it all feel compressed, and hard to breathe. But breaths still had to be taken, to pay homage to someone who’d recently taken their very last.

A small breath was taken behind a microphone, followed by the crinkling of paper, a quickly penned eulogy, a small favor for an old teacher.

“The first time I met Peggy Carter was a week after my birth,” Charlotte said. “My grandfather told all the living Commandos that he’d finally had his fifth grandbaby. ‘She’s here! Number five!’. Apparently they’d had bets about who would reach lucky number five first, and I’d secured his spot at third place. My mom said when she saw me, she lifted me up and said ‘This one’s a troublemaker, Evelyn. She’s a real Commando baby’. To which, my mother replied, ‘Oh God’.”

The audience laughed, even Charlotte had to laugh a little. “She was right, as we all know. Despite my quiet exterior, I turned out to be a little troublemaker. It was all Peggy’s fault, though. There was never a moment where I thought ‘I can’t do this’, because Peggy and my grandfather instilled in me a belief that the only person who could tell me what to do is me.

“She bought me my first pair of heels. She bought me my first tube of lipstick. She bought me my first pocketknife, with my name engraved on the side. My mom took it away, but I know where it is, and just knowing makes me feel safer. If Peggy Carter buys you a pocketknife, you know that thing’s gonna do it’s job.”

She felt herself getting choked up, but kept going. “Peggy Carter was more than a family friend. Her and my grandfather had a friendship built on respect, affection, and admiration. A friendship so affectionate that, at one point, it bloomed into a brief romance. She was passed along to each descending Jones child like a sage book of wisdom. If sage books of wisdom smelled like gunpowder and scared the shit out of any unfortunate man who happened to get on their bad sides.

“When I was born, she was passed on to me and, for a while, I took her for granted. I’d grown up around the Commandos, so their work to me was the same as a child growing up around lawyers and teachers and artists. But I got older, and my brain started acting like my enemy, so I needed advice, I needed guides. Peggy was more than happy to be part of the team of guides that tried their best to make me feel like a whole person again. It didn’t work, not completely, but the fact that she never gave up on me, despite her own mind betraying her, was more than enough.

“I’ve never met a woman like her. Someone so proud, so headstrong, so reckless. I’ve met a man like her, though, his name is Steve and she adored him. I guess a part of her will live on in him, and in me, and in everyone else she’d met. Every Jason, Angie, Sharon, Tony, Steve, Sam, and Charlotte…

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but I’ve never done things that Peggy wasn’t proud of. That’s something I’ll carry for the rest of my life. Rest well, Aunt Peggy.”

Charlotte stepped down and sat in the pew across the aisle from Steve and Sam. She looked over to them, makeup already ruined by days of tears. Sam gave her a supportive grin, but Steve kept his head down. Not a moment of that day seemed to pass without a piece of Charlotte’s heart breaking.

After the service, she met up with Sharon. She hadn’t seen her in ages, it felt. They weren’t exactly best friends, but there was a fondness. There was a sense of camaraderie that came with being blood relatives of Commandos, and also women raised in a world that happily held Peggy Carter. They considered each other to be cousins.

“Your speech was amazing!” Charlotte told Sharon. “God I could practically hear Peggy in your voice.”

She grinned. “I should say the same about yours!” There was a pause as Charlotte started digging through her clutch bag looking for something. “Two funerals so close to each other, Charlotte… I’m so sorry.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. The pink was beginning to give way to her naturally dark roots, and whether or not the color would remain was about as up in the air as everything else in her life.  “What are you apologizing for, huh? You didn’t do it.”

Sharon shrugged. “I thought that’s what people did at funerals, apologize.”

Charlotte scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Condolences and apologies are two different things. Deaths like this were caused by time, and time has never been particularly apologetic.”

“Time’s a bitch.”

She giggled. “She’s just doing her job.” She pulled a pack of gum from her bag and handed it to Sharon. “It keeps me from drowning in whiskey on low days, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I do.”

Sharon took a stick of gum from the pack and Charlotte unwrapped one of her own. “God, I could use a drink but people who used to be drug addicts shouldn’t try alcohol. That’s what they tell me.”

“Were you an addict? I thought you just did drugs at parties.”

“I went to a _lot_ of parties, Shar.” She tucked the gum back into her purse and politely grinned at a few funeral guests who came over to offer more condolences to Sharon. She almost felt bad for her, being immediate family she'd probably have to stick around for so much longer. 

“That’s a nice dress," Sharon said.

Charlotte smiled and twirled, letting the a-line skirt float around her body. “I actually don’t have that many black dresses, and the ones I do have are for funerals.”

“Well… If you ever decide you don’t want it…”

“Of course, all you have to do is ask!”

Sharon laughed. “No, I was kidding, but I forgot who I was talking to. Your heart’s almost big as those eyes.”

Steve started walking towards them, not so subtly looking at Sharon, but approaching Charlotte first. They hugged and he thanked her for coming. She assured him there was nowhere on earth she would rather be.

“How’s the court stuff going?” he asked her.

Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a shitty time but my lawyer says it’s one-hundred percent in my favor right now, so I guess not everything is shitty.”

“I saw that 60 Minutes interview with Aaron.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t remind me.”

“I thought you weren’t going to come because of it.”

Sharon furrowed her brows. “Wait, what did he say?”

“He told the world that I was selling myself for roles before I met him. I haven’t released a statement to dispute it yet because I can’t think of anything civil to say.”

Steve grinned. “You’ll think of something.”

“I _could_ just get Captain America to shut the rumor down.”

He shook his head. “I can’t think of anything civil to say.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m gonna go now, I hate funerals. Are you okay?” He didn’t answer and she put her hand on his arm. “Hey.”

He looked at her, eyes red and puffy from crying. He didn’t have tears left. Tears took too much energy. Charlotte knew the feeling all too well.

“Are you gonna be okay, Stevie?”

He put his hand over hers. “I will if you will.”

“Well that could go either way, couldn’t it?”

* * *

 

After the funeral, Charlotte went back to her hotel. She slipped out of her heels, ordered a cake from room service, and took a shower. She wanted to wash the morning away. She didn’t want to get stuck in the same horrible place she was after her grandfather died.

She ate her cake in a night shirt and boy shorts and found a great old movie to watch, much to her surprise. Everything seemed alright, but something felt off.

While she was relaxing, her phone buzzed. She hoped it wasn’t terrible news, but her phone seemed to deliver nothing but terrible news those days.

Sam had texted her.

> “turn on the news”

Her heart almost stopped when it was immediately followed with another text.

> “now”

She turned off her movie and turned on the news. There were images of the meeting for the Accords, the building was covered in dark smoke, and on the bottom of the screen it read:

**JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES SUSPECT IN UN BOMBING**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you in like??? a month and a half? two months?? idk  
> ............. love you


End file.
